Provenance
by VerityFrancesB
Summary: Suits/Supernatural FUSION.  Harvey is 26 when his father John goes missing, so he does the only thing he can think of, gets his adopted 22 year old brother Mike, and goes to find him.  Harvey/Mike
1. Chapter 1

Harvey doesn't remember the day Mike got dropped on their doorstep particularly well, its more of a hazy memory, like looking at something underwater, moments of perfect clarity, like when Mike was first put in his small 4 year old arms, interspersed with moments when Harvey can't remember anything apart from a muffled argument and snatches of words between his parents like "helpless" and "needs us". And the stories he tells Mike become more reality to both of them than Harvey even wants to admit.

"Tell it again," Mike had said, aged 5, and sticky, big blue eyes smiling at Harvey who had sighed, and started the story, again.

"It was raining, because it always rains when something bad happens," Mike had squealed happily as Harvey had poked a finger into his skinny ribs, "and there was a knock at the door and there you were, covered in boogers…"

"Was not," Mike had protested, around his finger in his mouth.

"Was too," Harvey had clamped a hand around Mike's wrist and pulled his finger out, "and mom picked you up and kissed you, boogers and all, and dad said you were a bald monkey and mom said you had to stay because bald monkeys cant look after themselves…"

"Not a bald monkey," Mike had grinned and Harvey had made a face at him before he continued.

"And then dad agreed and that's how I got stuck with you," Mike had grinned around wobbly teeth.

"You love me," he had said and Harvey had ruffled his hair and pulled the threadbare blanket over Mike's skinny shoulders.

"I have to," he had replied automatically and Mike had shaken his head.

"Do not."

"Do to…go to sleep."

"Love you."

In reality it wasn't that different. It had been raining and Mary Specter_ had_ picked up the crying baby, no boogers like Harvey liked to tell Mike, and cradled him close. The only difference being that Harvey had felt, at the tender age of 4, that this was what he was meant to do, look after baby Mikey, it was his job, and he was going to be the best damn big brother the world had ever seen.

* * *

><p>John Specter had had what most people would call a psychotic break after Mary had burned in the first that started in Mike's room but miraculously left Mike's crib unscathed. Most normal people would say he was an unfit father, dragging his boys all over the country in search of the monster that killed his beautiful wife. What most people didn't realise was that for the most part, John Specter was perfectly sane, and absolutely correct in his assumptions that something terrible, dark and supernatural had happened that night in that room. Harvey had been left bringing up Mike pretty much single handedly, once his own shock of his mother dying and his life being uprooted had passed he taught him to talk, to count, to tie his shoelaces. And it had come to no surprise to anyone that Mike's first was Harvey. Well a garbled version of Harvey, more like 'Vey than Harvey but John had smiled, lifted the kid high above his head and Mike had squealed as Harvey grinned, pride blooming in his chest.<p>

From an early age it was obvious Mike was special, they had no knowledge of his biological parents, or why they had dumped him on the Specter's or if Harvey's parents had, they have never bothered to disclose the information to Harvey, or Mike. Mike was quick to learn, absorbed knowledge like a sponge, had the uncanny ability to read Harvey's mood sometimes even before Harvey noticed it himself, could recite an entire cartoon back to Harvey after seeing it only once. It had been clear to John that Mike had a memory like nothing he's ever known and had used it on more than one occasion to John's advantage. The cartoon spouting though, had become annoying to Harvey after a while and Harvey would often try to smother Mike with the nearest stained cushion to shut him up, much to Mike's delight. Mike thought everything was a game. From the salt lines across the windows and doors, to the Devil's Trap in the trunk of the Impala, the fact that Harvey taught him how to strip a weapon when he was 6, everything was done with a grin and done impressively well.

But aged 12 it had stopped being a game and Mike had become sullen, craving normality, a stable home, a year in the same school and Harvey had tried to soothe the best he could.

When Mike was 15, Harvey began to notice the sidelong glances he would throw at Harvey during breaks in his teenage angst sessions, deep looks that held nothing of the brotherly affection they should have and Harvey had swallowed down his guilt whenever he caught himself looking at Mike in the same way.

He was 17, Mike was, skinny next to Harvey's bulkier 21, yet faster and as equally as powerful, when he first kissed Harvey, angry at yet another move, and yet another two weeks of John being gone God knows where, had grabbed Harvey by the lapels of his leather jacket and kissed him so hard Harvey felt like it was for punishment rather than pleasure.

"Jesus Christ, Mike…what the hell?" Mike hadn't said a word, but blinked, licked his lips and had stormed out of the motel room with out a backwards glance. He'd come crawling back when Harvey had finally managed to stop pacing, knowing that Mike could essentially take care of himself, and Mike had slipped into bed behind Harvey and pressed himself close. And Harvey had tried to ignore the throb in his dick as Mike had pressed his lips to Harvey's shoulder and muttered "I'm sorry 'Vey, I'm sorry," into his skin.

It took Harvey another 6 months to work up the courage to touch Mike in anything other than a brotherly way. He had been checking for cuts and bone breaks after a particularly hard case, John already sleeping off his hurts in the chair in the corner of the room, snoring softly, and Mike's eyes had gone wide as Harvey slid his fingers down Mike's jaw.

"Harvey?"

"Shhh," Harvey had clutched Mike's chin between his thumb and fingers and kissed him gently, a press of lips but it had Mike vibrating under his touch when Harvey pulled away and cleared his throat. "You're good," he had announced and stalked off to take a cold shower. Mike had been asleep by the time he had emerged.

* * *

><p>"I'm not going to break if you touch me," Mike had said weeks later, another job and, another school and John was gone again and Harvey snapped his gaze from the pistol in his hands to Mike's over the broken coffee table, "I want you too."<p>

"Mike…"

"Don't give me brotherly bullshit Harvey, we both know that's redundant," Mike had snapped. He had a point, but Harvey hadn't wanted to explore the feeling he got in his chest whenever Mike looked at him. Mike had moved first though, like he had always been doing, slipped to the floor between Harvey's spread legs and slid his hands up Harvey's thighs.

"Mike, I…"

"It's ok 'Vey," Mike's hands had tightened against Harvey's denim clad thighs and he had lifted himself to his knees, leaned forward and licked at his lips and that had been enough to make Harvey move, surging forward and cradling Mike's face between his hands and pressing his lips to Mike's. Mike had whined as Harvey had licked into his mouth, finally, tasted the kid that had grown up as his younger brother and Mike had pulled away long enough to crawl into Harvey's lap, kissing Harvey like he needed it and Harvey had pushed them both down onto the moth eaten couch, pushed his hands into Mike's pants and proceeded to make the kid fall apart under his hands.

* * *

><p>Mike left when he was 19, stole out of the motel room in the middle of the night and Harvey still blames Mike for getting Harvey drunk enough that he hadn't woken at the lack of Mike plastered against his skin.<p>

The drink, the slow, exploring sex, the touching, Harvey should have seen it coming. Mike had left two notes, one for Harvey, and one for both Harvey and John. The one for both of them was a cursory _gone to be normal, please don't try to find me, not yet. I love you both._ The one for Harvey had been slightly longer, _'Vey, its not you it's me? That sucks I know but it's true. I promise. There is almost nothing that could pull me from you, except what has now. You were born for this life Harvey, I wasn't and we both know that. Don't be mad. I love you._ Those three words had meant so much more after Harvey had realised what Mike sounded like when Harvey pushed inside his tight, hot body and Harvey had crumpled the letter in his hands, before setting his lighter to it and waiting for John's return to tell him the "Wonder Kid" had walked out on both of them.

* * *

><p>Mike's been gone for 4 years when John goes missing, no calls, no answer on his cell and Harvey's not so worried as there's a bone deep ache where his family used to be.<p>

He found Mike years ago, studying at Stanford, and after a week of watching over the kid, had left him well alone. But he here's again now, watching the kid go about his life, he's filled out from a diet of proper food, not just Spaghetti-O's and Lucky Charms, and lack of training, and the haunted, tired dark circles under his eyes have faded and more often than not there's a pretty blond on his arm.

Harvey ignores the stab of jealousy as Mike and the blond appear around the corner across the street from where Harvey's lurking and Mike glances in his direction briefly, mutters something to the girl and unlocks an apartment door before ushering her inside. Mike takes one last look down the street and Harvey's close enough to see the flicker of a frown on his face before he's through the door and closing it behind him.

Harvey waits a couple of hours, ignoring the almost overwhelming need to touch Mike again, to make those noises spill from Mike's lips, and manages to crack the lock on Mike's window without any difficulty once he sees the lights in the apartment go out.

"Stupid…kid's getting stupid," Harvey mutters to himself as he pulls himself through, Mike's window shouldn't have been so easy to open from the outside. This maybe as close to normal as he's ever going to get but some monsters know him, know his face and Harvey never thought he would get this lax. He curses the lack of salt under the window as he loses his balance and tumbles through. He stills, waiting to hear any noise from the apartment and moves when none comes.

He's making his way through the living room when he's barrelled to the floor by a smallish figure. He grunts and instinct kicks in as he wraps his legs around his assailant and flips them over.

"Easy tiger," Harvey grins and Mike's face clouds with confusion.

"Harvey? You scared the crap out of me," Mike says and Harvey laughs.

"That's because you're out of practice, kiddo," and Harvey finds himself flat on his back and remembers that Mike excelled at wrestling in High School.

"What the hell are you doing here?" There's a flicker of a smirk on Mike's face but its gone before Harvey can blink. Harvey groans, breathes heavily through his nose and regrets it as the scent of Mike hits him.

"Looking for a beer," it's an automatic reaction to having Mike on top of him that makes Harvey arch his hips upwards and Mike's eyes slide shut.

"You drink whiskey," he says, opening his eyes.

"True…get off me," he groans and Mike stands, grabs his hand and hauls him to his feet. The feel of Mike's hand in his own is shockingly familiar and Mike doesn't let go immediately but drops Harvey's like its burning when Harvey runs a thumb over his knuckles.

"Mike?" There's a voice from the doorway and Mike springs guiltily away from Harvey, "everything ok?"

The blond seems surprisingly ok for having been woken up by her boyfriend wresting with another man in the living room in the middle of the night and Harvey leers at her lean legs like he's expected to.

"Fine Jen, this is Harvey…my brother," there's a flicker of recognition in her eyes before a defensive mask slips into place and Harvey wonders what Mike has told her about his family.

"What are you doing here Harvey?" Mike asks again and Harvey sighs, swallows down the hot jealousy that slides down his spine as Mike slips an arm around _Jen's_ waist.

"Dad hasn't been home in a few days," he says and Mike blinks but his lips curl into a wry smile.

"So he's working over time on a Miller Time shift, he'll stumble back in sooner or later," he says and Jen look up at him as Mike stares across at Harvey. Mike's face is surprisingly and irritatingly blank, Harvey could always read Mike and now he can't and he's hit by the knowledge that its been four years.

"Dad's on a hunting trip and hasn't been home in a few days," Harvey says pointedly and Mike's impassive face breaks, worry seeping in as he releases his hold on Jen.

"Jen, excuse us a second," Jen frowns but nods and Mike pulls at Harvey's sleeve, tugs him out of the apartment into the cool night air, his fingers twitching and his face angry.

"You cant just break in, middle of the night and expect me to hit the road with you Harvey," Mike says and Harvey sighs, he knew this wasn't going to be easy but he can feel that John's in trouble, he knows it, as sure as he is that Mike still thinks about them, he knows John's hurt, maybe even dead and he counters Mike's anger with his own.

"So you're just going to stay here, live some apple pie life, be _normal_?" he spits the last word out like it tastes bad and Mike sighs, presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose like he's bored of the same old argument.

"Not normal," he says, lowering his hand and glancing at the windows of the apartment before reaching out and touching Harvey's arm lightly, "safe."

"So that's why you ran away," Harvey shakes out of his grip and pulls the trunk of the Impala open, anything to distract himself from pulling Mike close and fucking him over the hood. Or punching him.

"It was never about you…us…Harvey, you know that," Mike pleads and Harvey looks at him, his fingers resting on the paint of the Devil's Trap.

"Do I?" he asks and the anger falls off Mike's face. Harvey sighs, looks back down at the arsenal in the trunk and forces his patented shit eating grin at Mike, "So are you coming?"

"No."

"Fine," Harvey pushes down the disappointment, the anger at Mike for not helping, for leaving all those years ago, for not helping now when Harvey needs it. He pulls the drivers door open and Mike's hand lands on his.

"Harvey," Mike stars and Harvey turns his hand over, curls his fingers around Mike's briefly before pulling away and shoving his hands into his pockets.

"I can't do this alone Mikey," he says and Mike smiles, crookedly, punches his arm lightly.

"Yes you can, 'Vey," he replies, using the old nickname that Harvey hasn't heard since Mike left and he swallows.

"Yeah…well I don't want to," he admits and Mike lets out a breath.

"What was he hunting?"

* * *

><p>Harvey has to lie to get Mike in the car, he can't tell him just yet what John was doing, Mike would never have come if he knew. But Mike's here now, sitting next to Harvey, like he should have been for the past four years and Harvey has to grip his hands around the steering wheel to stop himself from resting his hand on Mike's thigh.<p>

"I have to be back in three days Harvey," he says and Harvey glances at him. Mike's got his bottom lip between his teeth and he's worrying at it.

"Stop that," Harvey says and Mike's teeth let go. Mike always reacted to Harvey that way, and when they were younger, Harvey always tried to ignore the dark coil of lust in his stomach whenever Mike did it. "Why do you have to be back?" Harvey asks, clearing his throat and Mike raises an eyebrow at him like he knows what's going on in Harvey's mind.

"Harvard Law interview," he says, looking out of the window and Harvey's stomach clenches.

"Ok," he says and Mike shifts in his seat, twists and pulls a leg up under him so he's facing Harvey.

"Harvey…it's…"

"It's ok Mike, I get it," He interrupts.

"Do you?"

Harvey's not used to this unsaid conversation going on between them. Mike was never one to hold back, used to say whatever was on his mind no matter how awkward it made Harvey, used to mutter things into Harvey's skin, "I love you," and Harvey wouldn't answer but would hear loud and clear. Now he can't even answer if he wanted to because Mike's not saying what he wants. "So," Mike shifts back to look out of the window, his pulse thudding in his neck and Harvey wants to rest his arm along the back of the seat and curl his fingers into Mike's hair, "give me the low down again."

Harvey sighs, mentally checks how far away from Stanford they are before he answers.

"He wasn't hunting what killed mom," Harvey says and Mike stiffens.

"What then?" There's a dangerous quality to Mike's voice and Harvey tightens his grip on the steering wheel.

"He was looking for your parents," he says and out of the corner of his eyes he sees Mike close his and press his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"Stop the car," Mike says quietly.

"Mike."

"Please, Harvey," it's the please that does it and Mike knows that. Harvey hauls the car onto the side of the road, gravel pinging on the underside as it slides to a halt and Mike's out of the car before it even stops, slamming the door so hard that the car rocks as Harvey gets out.

"Mike, come on kiddo," he tries and Mike whirls around to face him, presses his hands to the hood of the Impala and Harvey thinks that maybe now isn't a good time to tell him to mind the paintwork.

"Why the hell now? After 22 years you decide it's weird that they just dropped me off on your doorstep? I've been asking, Harvey, for years, and _now_ he decides to listen," Mike takes his hands off the hood and turns, runs a hand through his already messy hair and Harvey remembers running his own hands through it.

"Mike, he always listened," he says and Mike turns back to him, his eyes angry.

"You drag me out here under false pretence…" there's hurt in his voice, like he expected better from Harvey and Harvey shoves his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out to him. He rounds the hood of the car and Mike flinches as he gets close.

"It wasn't false Mike, I…" he sighs, "I want you," Mike flinches again, "with me doing this," he finishes because he's not sure what they are together now but he knows that he needs Mike here, he needs to find John and Mike can help, with that freaky brain of his.

"I've been fine, you know," Mike says and it feels like a slap to the face and Harvey pulls out his tin of cigarillos and lights one, swirling the smoke around his mouth before blowing a few smoke rings, Mike frowns, wrinkles his nose, "I've been fine without you."

"Well good," Harvey snaps, "because I haven't…" he admits and takes another drags, Mike frowns at the admission, makes an aborted attempt to reach out to Harvey but thinks better of it and shoves his own hands into his pockets, "that girl Mike…"

"That _girl_ has been good to me," Mike interrupts, "she doesn't ask questions when I wake with nightmares because of what we hunted, she doesn't flinch when I call her 'Vey," Harvey closes his eyes and Mike reaches out, plucks the cigarillo from his hands and grinds it into the floor with the heel of his shoe, "I hate it when you smoke."

"Yeah, I know. But you don't get to tell me that anymore," he says and Mike bites on his bottom lip. Mike sighs and reaches past Harvey to tug the door open, there's a small smile on his face when Harvey rolls his eyes. They used to do that as kids, open the door into each other and jostle to get the front seat, and then John would snap and they would both be banished to the back, and spend the night times curled around each other as John drove.

"Let's…let's just get this over with ok," he says as he slips into the car and Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"Glad to know you're so willing to help kiddo," he says and Mike laughs, although its slightly forced Harvey feels lighter as he slips back into the car and turns the ignition and Mike asleep, head against the window and body turned slightly towards Harvey's, within five minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

The motel that Harvey stops at is the same as usual, slightly run down, cheap, no questions asked and Harvey shakes Mike gently awake, ushers him into the room and does the salt lines whilst Mike throws himself down onto one of the squeaky beds. He's asleep again by the time Harvey has checked and double checked the windows, a strip of skin showing between his pants and t-shirt and he shifts, rubs his face against the pillow and Harvey has to stop himself from covering Mike's body with his own and pressing his lips to the spot under his ear that made Mike whine.

Harvey pulls out a t-shirt from his bag, grabs his toothbrush and tooth paste and locks himself in the bathroom. His head makes a dull thud as it hits the door and Harvey sighs heavily. He doesn't know how to do this, to be with Mike and not touch him. He used to know exactly what to do, but that was then, when a couple of shots of whiskey, a few heated kisses, a good fuck into the mattress was the norm.

Mike's under the duvet when Harvey emerges, jeans on the floor by the side of his bed and Harvey gets into his own bed, slides between the dubiously clean sheets and thumps his pillow a few times.

He's teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels his bed dip and Mike's hot hands slide down his arm.

"Mike," he warns and Mike shushes him, tugs on his arm as he lies down and Harvey finds himself turning to face him. Mike's nose is practically pressed to his and Harvey can feel Mike's dick against his thigh.

"I should have known it was you," Mike says, his hand playing along the edge of Harvey's jaw and Harvey can't move right now, Mike presses his hips forward, "today, when I got home, I should have known you were there," Mike shifts again, his dick hard against Harvey's thigh, "because I used to always know where you were," his curls his hand around the back of Harvey's neck and tugs gently and Harvey resists, for the first time since he felt Mike's lips against his, he resists Mike's tugging hands.

"What about Jen?" he says and Mike shifts closer.

"This is about you and me, Harvey," he says, his breath hot against Harvey's mouth and he can taste the coffee they stopped for a few hours back on Mike's breath, but under that there's _Mike_, same as always, familiar like home and Harvey groans as Mike pulls again and their lips meet, "it's always about you and me," he says against Harvey's mouth, "it's always you," his hips are moving and he kisses Harvey again, pressing himself forward, rutting against Harvey's thigh.

"No, Mike…" Harvey, contrary to his words slides a hand down Mike's back and pulls him flush against him.

"Don't," Mike says, curling his fingers into Harvey's hair, "just…" Mike's words stutter, his breath hot against Harvey's mouth, his stills and Harvey feels the spread of warmth against his thigh, "'Vey," Mike mutters and Harvey pulls him close, wraps his arms around him and curls his fingers into Mike's hair. Mike falls asleep with his hand pressed to Harvey's chest.

* * *

><p>The smell of coffee wafting under his nose rouses him the next morning and Harvey groans, pushes himself up enough to blindly grab at the moving mug before gulping down a scalding mouthful. Harvey can go from dead to the world to scary bad ass hunter in 1 second flat when he wants to, but something about having Mike here, subconsciously, puts him at ease and he takes his time waking up and remembering having Mike trembling in his arms the night before.<p>

"Morning," Mike calls cheerily and Harvey manages to focus long enough to see him sitting at the small table by the window with his feet up on the other chair. The laptop is open in front of him and he presses at a few keys before looking back at Harvey, a faint blush of embarrassment on his cheeks the only proof that anything untoward happened last night.

"You are far to cheery this morning," Harvey grumbles, sipping at his coffee and Mike shuts the laptop, takes his feet off the chair and leans his forearms against his knees.

"What did dad find?" Mike asks and Harvey groans.

"Can I at least finish my coffee?"

"No, what did he find Harvey, otherwise I'm going home," Harvey tries not to answer that he is home as Mike stands.

"Mike sit down," Mike does and Harvey swallows, "I don't know what he found."

"You're lying. It may have been four years Harvey but I still know how to read you," and that's the problem, Harvey thinks. He can still read how much Harvey wants him, how hard it is not to touch him every given opportunity. Harvey sighs, swallows down the rest of his coffee and throws the cup into the trashcan.

"He found…others…"

"Others?"

"Do we have to have that conversation about you interrupting me again?" Harvey asks with a small smile and Mike shakes his head, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and looks expectantly at him.

"Others like you. Kids dumped on families. Mother's dying. Freaky brains."

"Way to sugar coat it, Harvey," Mike stands and runs his hands through his hair.

"You never liked me sugar coating stuff Mike," he reminds him and Mike glares at him.

"So you're telling me I did that to mom? To Mary?" Mike's eyes have gone that watery blue that means he might cry and Harvey moves, curls his fingers around the tops of Mike's arms and shakes him slightly.

"No, Mike, don't do this," he says, voice low, using the tone he knows Mike can't deny and Mike curls his own fingers around Harvey's forearms, little points of heat on Harvey's skin.

"Were they even human? My real parents?" Mike asks and Harvey lets him go, Mike's fingers slide down his arms.

"Of course they were," he snaps grabbing at the bag on the small table. Mike's picked up bagels, with cream cheese and Harvey takes a bite of one.

"How do you know that?" Mike asks, pulling at Harvey's t-shirt.

"Why are you asking, Mike?"

"Because…there's something…different about me Harvey, John knew it. You know it, and don't say that you don't," Mike drops the material of Harvey's shirt and looking pleadingly at Harvey. Harvey sighs, he can't tell the kid everything, not yet, not when they've just got here, he'll run, he'll hide better this time and it might take Harvey another 4 years to find him.

"Mike…"

"And stop saying my name like that," Mike snaps and Harvey quirks his lips up at the corner.

"I haven't said it for four years, kiddo, I have some catching up to do," Harvey pushes at Mike's shoulder and Mike grudgingly smiles briefly.

"So what are we going to do?" he asks and Harvey takes another mouthful of bagel.

"Find dad," he says and Mike wrinkles his nose.

"You have food in your mouth…that's disgusting."

* * *

><p>They settle into what used to be their routine pretty easily, driving, stopping for gas, bitching over music choices, eating shitty food, checking the rapidly growing cold trail for John, and on the third morning Mike asks to drive.<p>

"Are you fucking kidding me? No," Harvey lightly smacks him round the back of the head and Mike pretends to pout. And its so normal that it makes Harvey's chest hurt.

For the last two nights Mike has crawled into bed with Harvey, and last night Harvey came with Mike's mouth around him. In the cold light of morning though neither of them say anything, Mike stretches out next to Harvey, gives him a small smile and lingers in the bathroom stealing the hot water whilst Harvey lies with his guilt and shame in the too small bed.

As Mike is pulling a threadbare t-shirt over his still damp hair there's a knock at the motel room door and Harvey freezes, checks the salt line with a glance and reaches for the knife under his pillow. Mike looks worried but ready to spring into action and checks the gun at the back of his jeans as Harvey pulls the door, chain still attached, open.

"Jesus Christ Donna, warn a man when you're coming would you?" Harvey's stomach twists with adrenaline and relief as he comes face to face with Donna (no last name although Harvey likes to call her McFabulous sometimes which she grins at).

"Sadly sweetie, not a pleasure call," she sweeps into the room, cocks her head to the side as she takes in Mike, shifting from foot to foot and looking decidedly unsure about the whole situation. She turns to Harvey with an eyebrow raised as she takes in Mike's wet hair and the tangled bed sheets.

"Donna, Mike. Mike, Donna," Donna's face flinches but she manages to get it back to neutral.

"The prodigal brother," she says and Mike nods, swallows, looks terrified and Harvey wants to tell him to calm down, Donna can smell fear, "I heard he was with you. Well good, because you know I hate to repeat myself," she turns back to Harvey, "you never told me he was so adorable Harvey," she says and Harvey lets out a laugh as the tips of Mike's ears redden.

"What's up?"

"I heard, on the grapevine, that puppy here's little girlfriend might be in trouble," she says and Mike blanches.

"Jen? What? Why?"

"Because of who you are sweetie, now if I were you, I would take your skinny little butt right back there and get both of you the hell away from Stanford," she says and Harvey doesn't even need to ask how she knows where Mike is studying, or how she knows Jen might be in trouble. Donna knows things, she always has done, and Harvey doesn't question it so much as use it to his advantage. She's also a hell of a cook and can drink Harvey under the table.

"How do you…" Mike starts and Harvey holds his hands up.

"Just pack Mike, don't ask," he says and Mike scrabbles around the room picking up discarded clothes and shoving them into his bag. Donna raises an eyebrow at Harvey who turns away, now is not the time for Donna's inscrutable gaze. He himself doesn't even know what's going on between them, he doesn't want to have to explain to Donna. The pit in his stomach at the thought of taking Mike back to Stanford is now ten million times bigger, especially noticing the way Mike rushes around, practically manic, at the thought that Jen might be in trouble. Mike is Harvey's dammit, not hers. Donna places her hand on his arm and gives him a sympathetic smile.

"Right boys, my duty is done. Mike, it's been a pleasure, I expect to see more of you. Harvey," she pauses and shakes her head, "Harvey, Harvey, Harvey," she grins and sweeps out of the door.

"Is she for real?" Mike asks once the door closes and Harvey picks up his knife from the table and shoves it into the back of his jeans.

"Never been wrong yet. So let's stop talking and get out of here."

* * *

><p>"She's not picking up," Mike says again, for the fourth time, as Harvey floors the gas peddle and swerves around a semi.<p>

"Try again," Harvey snaps, weaving in and out of traffic. They've made good time, stopping once for gas, where Mike twitched the entire time until Harvey started the car again. And they're two hours out of Stanford now and Mike's vibrating worry seems to get worse the closer they get. Harvey uncurls one hand from the wheel and lays it flat on Mike's thigh. Mike stills immediately, an instant reaction to having Harvey's hands on his and Harvey swallows hard at the memories. Mike's hands cover Harvey's like it's a reflex, he squeezes once and flashes Harvey a tight smile. "We'll get there," he promises and immediately regrets it.

If Donna is aware of a problem, then its serious, and Harvey, no matter how much he wants Jen out of the picture, can't help but worry about the poor girl who had no idea what she was getting into when she became involved with Mike.

"Harvey…I…" Mike stutters and Harvey squeezes his thigh, lets go.

"Don't."

"But…"

"Kid, no chick flick moment. I seriously don't want to talk about feelings right now ok, try your girlfriend again," he nods at the phone and tries to keep the bitterness out of his tone when he says girlfriend.

"I want to stay with you," Mike says quietly, phone clutched against his ear and he's not looking at Harvey and for a second Harvey thinks Jen's answered. But then Mike's gaze lifts to his and Harvey swallows.

"Mike..."

"We get her, we make sure she's safe and then we go Harvey, you and me. We find dad, we figure this whole thing out. You and me. Ok? Harvey?" Mike looks pleadingly at him, fingers playing across the denim of Harvey's jeans and Harvey can only swallow down the jump of hope in his throat.

"Ok."

* * *

><p>Harvey smells the smoke before he sees the flashing lights, it seeps in through the vents in the car and Mike stiffens, even though he's been sitting bolt upright for the past hour, tapping his fingers against his thigh.<p>

"Something's wrong," he mutters and Harvey pulls the car up around the corner from the apartment and Mike's out of the door, running, before Harvey can get the key out of the ignition.

"Mike," Mike doesn't break stride as he hits the gathered crowd, and the barriers and Harvey manages to catch up, get his arms around him as he gets to the front and hauls him back.

"Get off," he shouts, struggling in Harvey's grip and Harvey sees the plume of smoke coming from Mike's apartment.

"Mike," there's a body being stretchered down to a waiting ambulance, but there's a sheet over it and Harvey knows the worst even if Mike doesn't, or doesn't want to accept it yet.

"Get the fuck off Harvey," he twists in Harvey's arm and Harvey keeps his grip.

"Mike, it's too late," Harvey stumbles as Mike manages to get a punch in to Harvey's ribs and then he's off, ducking under the barriers and barging his way through to the stretcher. He's stopped by Police and Harvey internally winces, but barges on through and explains as Mike pulls the sheet back.

"Jen," the noise Mike makes is heartbreaking, its full of guilt and anger and Harvey wants to touch him, to reassure, even though he knows nothing will work right now, nothing except time. Mike straightens, puts the sheet back and strides off, brushes past Harvey like he doesn't even know him and Harvey forces a smile and an apology at the sympathetic police officers.

He finds Mike by the car, slamming his fist into the wall, tears streaming down his face and Harvey instinctively curls his fingers around Mike's drawn back wrist.

"It's not your fault Mike," he says and Mike wrenches his hand out of Harvey's grasp, spins and Harvey dodges another punch, "it's not mine either kiddo, so you can stop throwing punches," Mike throws another and Harvey uses his momentum to grab his wrist, pin it behind his back and pushes Mike down onto the hood of the Impala. Mike's got quick reflexes and its that which stops him face planting the hood. He shifts, pushes back against Harvey and Harvey pulls his arm higher up his back and lets the hand flat on Mike's back slide up and run along Mike's hairline.

"Listen to me…are you listening?" Harvey says into his ear, Mike struggles, lets out a sob and then sags, nods, "it's not your fault, you got me?" Harvey relaxes his grip, "have you finished?" Mike nods again and Harvey lets him go, takes a step back and Mike's hand slaps against the hood before he pushes himself up. He glares at Harvey like he hasn't finished, like he wants to kill something.

"If I hadn't left with you…"

"Then you'd be dead," Harvey interrupts, "or God knows where. We don't know if this was an accident or on purpose or what happened, Mike, so don't you dare go blaming yourself."

"Donna's never wrong, that's what you said," Mike accuses and Harvey sighs, he feels useless right now, and guilty and he hates it.

"There's a first time for everything," he says and Mike lets out another sob, turns away from Harvey and punches at the wall again. Harvey notices the blood across his knuckles but says nothing, doesn't make to touch him again.

"God…I was going to leave her, for you," Harvey tries to ignore the anger in Mike's voice, like it was Harvey's idea that Mike left Jen, and then Mike's legs give out and Harvey's at his side in a second, scooping the kid up and against him, Mike fists his hands into Harvey's shirt, "I told you when she was burning. She was burning alive, Harvey and I was talking about leaving her," Mike chokes, turns his face to Harvey's neck and Harvey feels the tears on his skin.

"Mike," and there's nothing else he can say, not to make this better. Harvey just holds him until Mike pushes him away and stands, rubs a hand over his face and lifts his chin.

"We've got work to do."

* * *

><p>Harvey's gentle with him in a way he's never been before, wraps Mike's hand as he looks at Harvey with no emotion playing across his face. He bundles Mike into the car and drives, uncaring of the direction he just needs to drive, to get away from the smoke still lingering in the air.<p>

He pulls into a motel when his eyes start stinging from lack of sleep, pushes Mike into the shower and runs their clothes to the laundry, to get the acrid smell of burning out of them.

When Mike was suffering before, when they were younger, Harvey would push and push, press until it hurt, until Mike snapped, through a punch and then get over it. But he can't do that now, Mike's already at the edge and if Harvey pushes him anymore he's not sure what will happen. He's known Mike was different, known about the other kids, the isavants/i, as John called them, what they were capable of, and its only because of Mike's relatively grounded upbringing, grounded in the sense that he always had Harvey no matter what other crap happened, that he's still Mike, and not some mindless drone, capable of destruction with a single thought.

What they don't know is who's controlling the kids, who's responsible for bringing them into the world, if they are all related somehow, or just victims of circumstance.

Mike's distance now, that's to be expected, he lost his girlfriend, and Harvey doesn't even want to think about how the fire started, even though they both know it was probably the same way their mother burned. They have no proof except a gut feeling. But Mike's distant, flinching every time Harvey touches him, answering with one word answers until Harvey's just about had enough.

It takes him a week and a half to build up the courage to push Mike.

"Right, I know you lost Jen and all but this mopey, teenage angst crap has got to stop," Mike glares at him across the car.

"Mopey?"

"Yeah, mopey," Harvey twists his lips to a half smile and is rewarded with one from Mike, just a flash and then he frowns.

"My girlfriend died Harvey," he says, glaring again and turning back towards the window.

"Yeah kid I know," Harvey sighs, suddenly feeling guilty about pushing.

"Stop calling me kid," Mike snaps and Harvey smiles at the age old argument.

"At least I didn't call you Mikey," he says and Mike bites his bottom lip and his nostrils twitch like he's trying not to smile. "Listen, I know Jen died, and its sad and all, but we have stuff to do Mike, work."

"When did you become such a heartless bastard?" Mike asks, but there's a hint of a smile on his lips. Harvey grins back at him.

"About the time you walk out," he replies, and Mike flinches. He meant it as a joke, meant to lighten the mood but he misses by a mile and they both know it.

"Harvey," Mike says and Harvey shakes his head, pulls the car into a gas station.

"Forget it."

* * *

><p>"Billie Holliday?" Mike asks, lifting a hand to catch the bag of chips that comes sailing through the air, he doesn't even lift his head from the tape box and Harvey nods, impressed then frowns.<p>

"What's wrong with Billie Holliday?" he asks as he gets back into the front seat and Mike raises an eyebrow. Harvey frowns again and grabs the tape out of Mike's hands. "I will enlighten you kid, just you wait and see."

Mike snorts and lapses into silence, but it's an easy one, well easier than it has been for the past 10 days and he taps his fingers against his thigh gently as the music fills the car and Harvey lets himself breathe, just a little bit.

* * *

><p>The next motel they stop at only has a double room left and Harvey valiantly suggests that Mike takes the bed, after all, he's fully intending to stay up most of the night making sure Mike has no more nightmares anyway, what the difference if he's in a chair or a bed.<p>

Mike frowns, rubs at the back of his neck and tells Harvey he's being stupid, they've shared a bed often enough.

"May I remind you kiddo how most of those times ended up?" Harvey says as he pours salt across the door and cracks the air con up. Its stuffy in the room, but Harvey likes the windows shut. Harvey feels Mike's hand, tentative, on his back. Harvey stands and shrugs him off, with a smile but Mike still frowns again.

"Harvey," there's a hint of pleading in Mike's tone and Harvey shuts his eyes briefly.

"No, Mike," he says, opening them to find Mike right in front of him, his blue eyes searching Harvey's face, "no."

"Do I have to remind you what I said in the car?" Mike asks and Harvey knows what he's talking about.

_We get her, we make sure she's safe and then we go Harvey, you and me. We find dad, we figure this whole thing out._

"That was before your girlfriend died, Mike, I'm not…" he pauses, pushes gently at Mike's chest, "I _can't_ be a rebound for you," Mike opens his mouth to protest but Harvey shakes his head and it snaps shut with an audible click, "when you want me for me, then I'll think about it," he says with a crooked smirk and Mike frowns, rolls his eyes.

"I hate you sometimes," he says and Harvey just smirks wider.

"No you don't," he replies, "you love me."

"Do not."

"Do too.


	3. Chapter 3

Mike whimpers as a semi rolls past rattling the windows and the door. The flickering lights from the broken motel sign cast a red, harsh shadow across his face and Harvey sees the frown flickers across his brow. He wants to wake him, gently with kisses and soft touches, to fuck Mike into wakefulness like he used to, have Mike's eyes fly open when Harvey pushes in. Mike shifts, flings his arm across his eyes, mutters something that sounds like "no" and stills for a second.

Things certainly would be less complicated without Mike here, simpler, because Mike clouds Harvey's mind, he always has, makes him second guess himself, hesitate when he should just pull the trigger. John knew it, watched with a sideways glance every time they worked together, and part of Harvey wondered if John knew what went on when John wasn't around, in the darkness of another motel room, hands on skin and Harvey's dick inside Mike's willing body. Did John know his boys were fucking each other most of the night, Harvey's hand over Mike's mouth to keep him quiet.

However less complicated things would be, Harvey wouldn't have it any other way. Mike's back where he belongs, with Harvey. It's the only way Harvey can be sure the kid's safe and he's not going to go astray. Harvey feels like he's been watching out for that ever since John told him about the other kids.

Mike whimpers again, sighs out a quiet "Harvey" and Harvey allows himself to smile briefly. But then Mike's face shifts to scared and the noise he makes is enough to have Harvey on his feet and running his fingers down Mike's face, down to his chest, over his thudding heart.

"Shhh," he mutters, "it's ok, kid," Mike frowns, his eyes fluttering against the nightmare and wanting to wake, but he jerks away from Harvey's touch, and scrabbles against Harvey's strong hand on his chest, fingernails scraping against Harvey's skin. "Mike."

Mike sits bolt upright, gasping and clutching at Harvey's wrist still on his chest.

"Shit," he breathes heavily for a few seconds.

"You ok?"

"Peachy," he replies, letting go of Harvey's wrist, his fingers slide off Harvey's skin and Harvey hopes he cant feel the thudding of his pulse.

Mike's face is close when he turns to look at Harvey, a haunted, almost scared look in them, but he blinks and its gone. He licks his lips and seems to notice their proximity. He shifts closer, "Harvey," whispered, falls from his mouth.

Harvey can't help it, he really can't, he's practically powerless when it comes to Mike anyway, but Mike wanting, scared and needy? Harvey's a sucker. Mike's mouth is hot, urgent as he kisses Harvey, fingers tangling in Harvey's t-shirt, tugging him closer, tongue sweeping across the inside of Harvey's mouth and he groans, tugs them both backwards. Harvey braces his hands either side of Mike's head, presses his hips down and Mike arches upwards, fingers tangling in the hair at the back of Harvey's neck. Harvey can feel Mike's dick pressing against his own and its enough to bringing him back to reality when Mike tears his mouth away and slides it along Harvey's jaw.

"No," Mike nips at the skin, faint stubble catching and Harvey shudders, "Mike…stop." Mike shudders too, but stops.

"Don't…" his voice is quiet, desperate, "don't use that tone on me," he lets Harvey go, shuts his eyes and turns his head away and Harvey can see the effort it takes to get him to stop. Harvey crawls off him, sits on the side of the bed and runs his hands across his face. "I just…" Mike starts, hand over his eyes, he swallows, "I just don't know how to be…around you without wanting you…"

"Mike," Mike's fingers curl around Harvey's wrist, he tugs gently and Harvey turns towards him.

"It's always been that way. I spent four years wanting you to walk around the next corner, four years waiting for you to come get me, to tell me I'd been an idiot," Mike's voice is rising with insistence and Harvey pulls his hand out of his grasp and stands.

"_You_ walked out Mike, _you_. How was I meant to know you want me to come after you?" Mike sits, crosses his legs under him.

"Because you know me," he flings back at Harvey and Harvey frowns, feels a coil of anger in his belly.

"I _knew_ you. The Mike I thought I knew would never have walked out on his family," he says and Mike looks like he's been hit. He pushes himself off the bed and takes a step towards Harvey.

"I didn't walk out on _you_ Harvey, I told you that," he snaps and Harvey scoffs.

"_It's not you, it's me_? Really Mike? You expected me to believe that?"

"Why wouldn't you?" Mike asks and Harvey feels like punching him.

"Because you left me, Mike," he shouts and Mike takes a step back, "me. You left me, after everything," Harvey drives his fist into the wall, feels the satisfying pain shoot up his arm, "you pushed, and then you left," Harvey hasn't been this angry for a while, not since John told him about the kids, all the others through out history, born on the same date as Mike, and John had told Harvey they might one day have to kill Mike, to protect them and everyone else.

That had been the only time Harvey had raised a hand to his father.

"Harvey."

"I'm leaving now," Harvey says and Mike flinches, makes a move towards Harvey, hands out and Harvey sidesteps, "I'm coming back I just…" he trails off and Mike looks like he wants to argue, his jaw muscles quiver, but he doesn't say anything and Harvey pulls the door open and slams it shut.

* * *

><p>There's a certain peace Harvey finds when he drives, the wheel beneath his hand, the smooth tarmac under the tyres, the way the road seems to roll under the car. He squeezes his hands around the wheel, resists the urge to close his eyes and just feel.<p>

Four years is a long time to try to get over someone, its also too short a time to try to get over some who's so inextricably linked to your every memory, someone who shaped who you are now just by being in your life. And then that person comes back into your life? Harvey feels himself slipping, being pulled back towards Mike like some laws of physics are at work.

He knows Mike feels it too, but Mike managed, for four years, to have some semblance of a normal life, to forget about Harvey and John and their jobs, all he'd been taught, to love someone else and that's the crux of the problem. Harvey has spent the last four years going from bed to bed, imagining skinny, yet defined muscles, blonde messy hair and blue knowing eyes, whipcord body all angles instead of soft curves and plump breasts. Where as Mike had spent the last four years in the same bed. If Harvey were to think about it logically, they both went for completely the opposite of each other, to try to erase the memories rather than keep them alive. But he just feels the hurt, the pain and anger.

He almost wishes John was here, he'd take the complications away, if they can't touch each other then none of this happens. Plus Harvey feels the ever knowing worry at the base of his spine whenever he thinks of John.

He pulls the car into the parking lot of the motel and Mike is sitting on the low wall outside the room, kicking his feet against the wall. He looks small and lost and Harvey has to quell the urge to go to him and pull him close. He turns the engine off, hears the familiar clunk as it stops and slowly gets out, closing the door as Mike slips off the wall.

"I'm sorry," he says as Harvey gets closer and Harvey nods absently. Mike's hand snakes out, wraps around Harvey's wrist, his thumb brushes over Harvey's knuckles, "for leaving, for letting you think that I didn't care, that I didn't…"

"Mike, stop, ok? Just, please," Harvey tugs his wrist and Mike's fingers slide across his pulse.

"Ok," he says and digs into his pocket for his cell phone, he clears his throat and Harvey raises an eyebrow, "I got a call when you were…driving, from an old friend. I think he needs our help."

* * *

><p>"Really Mike I don't think this sounds like our problem," Harvey shoves his clothes into his bag and Mike sighs for the fifteenth time since he's explained the problem to Harvey.<p>

"I know Trevor, I know he's not capable of what they're saying he's done," he says and Harvey frowns at the way Mike stresses "know".

"Still doesn't mean its out problem," there's an air of awkwardness around them but they've agreed to put a lid on whatever issues they're carrying around for the moment. Mike grits his teeth.

"They're my friends, Harvey," he sighs, like that's meant to mean something to Harvey when the only people Harvey would drop anything for are Mike and John, "plus you'll love New York," Mike grins and Harvey rolls his eyes.

"Fine," he sulks and Mike's arm twitches like he wants to punch the air, "we'll check it out," Mike's arms reach around Harvey's back and he rests his head against his shoulders briefly, muttering 'thanks' into Harvey's t-shirt and letting him go, "_But_ if we find nothing I get a free pass to get stinking drunk and sleep with whoever I want," Harvey says and Mike stiffens briefly, hand pausing mid shove of t-shirt into bag but then he nods.

"Since when have you needed my permission anyway?" he says and Harvey forces a laugh.

"Good point."

* * *

><p>Mike's more than a little tense when he comes out from seeing Trevor, having bluffed their way in with Harvey's fake ID's. He's kept Mike's all these years in the glove box and Mike raises an eyebrow as he runs his fingers over them. But Mike's face is taught, lined with worry and something else and Harvey feels jealousy over the part of Mike's life he doesn't know coil in his stomach.<p>

"It wasn't him," Mike says around a mouthful of cheeseburger at the diner down the road from the police station. Harvey wrinkles his nose but sips at his coffee, contemplates pulling out his hipflask and lacing it with whiskey but decides it probably too early for that and he hates the look of disappointment from Mike whenever he does it.

"Swallow first," he says and Mike sticks his tongue out but swallows.

"He didn't do it," he says again and Harvey leans forward.

"What exactly are they saying he's done?"

"Killed a girl…" he says, shifting and Harvey raises an eyebrow, "tortured her," he finished quietly.

"And you know he didn't…how exactly?"

"Because I know him," Mike says fiercely and Harvey sits back, runs his fingers around the rim of his coffee mug, Mike watches the movement and licks his bottom lip, lifts his gaze from Harvey's and blushes slightly along his cheekbones.

"Know him? Or _know_ him?" Mike's nostrils twitch in anger, his knuckles turn white around his own mug.

"Not that its any of your business," he mutters and Harvey reaches out, curls his fingers tight around Mike's wrist. Mike's grip on his mug relaxes as Harvey's thumb presses into the soft skin on the inside, feels the pulse thud under the skin.

"I think it is my business," he says low and quiet and Mike's breath catches in his throat. He tugs on his arm sharply and Harvey lets go.

"He's a friend. He didn't do it Harvey," Mike looks so sure, sounds so positive that Harvey can only sit back and sigh.

"Ok, say he didn't do it, then why is he banged up like a criminal?" Harvey asks, then drains his coffee and signals at the waitress who sashays over with a smile that Harvey would usually pay attention to. Expect Mike's sitting right in front of him and even though they have this "don't touch" policy that they both keep breaking, he can't seem to drag his eyes away from Mike.

"Because his prints were all over the scene," the waitress fills Harvey's mug and pauses for a second before realising she's not getting anywhere and slinks off with a shrug, "Look, I know what it looks like ok?" Mike says like a teenager caught with gay porn and a stash of pot. Harvey snorts.

"Well good, cos it looks like your_ friend_ flipped out and went postal on some poor girl for no reason," Mike runs his hand through his hair, sighs heavily.

"He wasn't even there," he says, looking down at his hands, "he was with his sister that night, but the police think she's lying to protect him," he looks up at Harvey, big blue pleading eyes and its so unfair that he still has this hold over Harvey, still uses that look to get Harvey to do things he doesn't want to. Harvey sighs, internally he's given up his argument but he needs to keep up the pretence at least a little longer.

"His fingerprints Mike," he says.

"I…" Mike starts, shuts his mouth and shakes his head slightly. "What can I say to convince you to at least take a look at this?"

"I am taking a look," Harvey says and Mike shifts, sits a little straighter, "and deciding it's not our problem," Mike deflates again but then his jaw muscles clench and he looks hard at Harvey.

It's _my_ problem, Harvey," he says and with those four words Harvey knows that him and Trevor were more than just friends, no matter how many times Mike denies it, there is something else under this that makes Harvey want to leave the guy to rot in jail for the rest of his life, if only because he had the audacity to touch what was Harvey's.

"No its not, not anymore," he says and Mike gives him that look he used to give whenever Harvey was being overbearing. "You don't have friends now Mike, you can't, you know that," he says and Mike narrows his eyes as Harvey pulls his wallet out of his pocket and throws a couple of bills onto the table, he groans quietly at the lack of cash in his wallet and makes a mental note to pull some credit card frauds in the not too distance future.

"So I'm meant to just leave them all behind?" Mike asks and Harvey stands, stretches out his stiff limbs, they drove all night but Harvey was damned if he was going to let Mike drive, "for you?" Mike spits and Harvey drops his arms to his sides and hooks his fingers under Mike's chin, tilts his head up.

"I used to be enough for you," he says and Mike swallows, eyes sliding shut like they used to, when Mike would submit and melt into Harvey's touch. Harvey lets him go and Mike sways on his seat slightly.

"Harvey…"

"Find me something real and I'll consider looking into it, otherwise we're leaving tomorrow," he snaps, his fingers tingling from touching Mike. He walks to the door.

"Where are you going?" Mike calls out and Harvey doesn't even turn.

"To get drunk."

* * *

><p>The whiskey burns as it goes down, but its smooth, an expensive brand, Harvey felt like splurging. He sighs and signals for another and as the bartender fills his glass he feels the air around him change as someone sits into the stool next to him. Harvey glances to his right and there's a shock of dark curly hair and a dangerous grin.<p>

"Rough day?" he kid, because he's a kid, no older than Mike, asks and Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"Seriously? You're starting with that?" he asks and the kid grins again, flashes dimples that have heat pooling in Harvey's stomach.

"No, I'm starting with my outstanding good looks, the words are meaningless," the kid says and takes a pull of the bottle the bar tender slides in front of him. His lips wrap around the bottle and he keeps his green eyes fixed on Harvey's. He's got skill, Harvey thinks, throwing back his whiskey, his vision swims for a second and the kid lowers the bottle from his mouth, swipes a thumb over his lower lip and pulls it into his mouth.

"Subtle," Harvey says and the kid grins.

"You don't strike me as the subtle type," he says, spins on his stool and faces Harvey, "Kyle."

"Harvey," Harvey clasps his hand briefly.

"What are you doing in New York, Harvey?" Kyle asks and Harvey raises an eyebrow, takes another swig from his bottle.

"What makes you think I don't live here?"

"Please, I can spot a New Yorker from miles away. And you," he points the top of his bottle in Harvey's direction, "my friend, are inot/i a New Yorker. So…what are doing here?"

"Figuring some stuff out," Harvey replies, nodding at the bartender.

"What say we…get out of here and go figure stuff out together?" Kyle asks and Harvey's almost taken aback buy the kids bluntness. He lets out a small laugh, downs his latest whiskey and digs into his pocket. Kyle's hand lands on his arm.

"Let me, if you're as good as you look, I think I may owe you these," he says and Harvey laughs again as Kyle pays.

"Kid," Harvey says, winding his fingers into Kyle's waistband and tugging him close, "I'm better than I look."

* * *

><p>Kyle's got his hand down Harvey's pants before Harvey can even shut the motel room door, he's groaning into Harvey's mouth, fingers curling around Harvey's dick and Harvey spins them, pushing Kyle up against the door and drags his fingers through the messy curls, tugs Kyle's head to the side and licks up his throat.<p>

"Fuck," Kyle mutters and Harvey huffs out a laugh against his skin.

"If you insist," he pulls Kyle off the door, spins him around and pushes, hard. Kyle lands on the bed with an indignant noise but then smirks up at Harvey, dimples creasing his cheeks. He'd look cute if it wasn't for the hungry look in his eyes.

Kyle opens his mouth to say something but Harvey doesn't want to talk, so he covers Kyle's mouth with his own, covering Kyle's body at the same time, pressing his hips down. Kyle groans, runs his hands through Harvey's hair and wraps a leg around him, pulls their dicks together and the slide of denim against his dick is almost painful. But it's a good pain and Harvey presses down again, manages to get a hand under Kyle's shirt and runs his hand up his skins, fingers skating over ribs, thumb brushing over a nipple. Kyle shudders, tears his mouth away and nips at Harvey's jaw. His teeth drag along the shadow of stubble there and Harvey groans, pulls away to dig into his pocket for the small sachet of lube and a condom he always carries. Kyle raises an eyebrow.

"Such a boy scout," he says, voice more than a little wrecked and Harvey grins his shark like grin and pulls his t-shirt over his head. Kyle shifts, tugs his own shirt off and Harvey briefly wonders where Mike is. Kyle cups Harvey's dick through his jeans and Mike goes out of his head.

The smug smirk goes off Kyle's face as Harvey tugs his jeans and his boxers down in one go and curls his fingers around Kyle's dick, runs his thumb over the slit. Kyle bucks up into his hand, bottom lip caught between his teeth. There's a few curls lying across his forehead, already plastered to the skin with a light sheen of sweat and Kyle arches his whole body as Harvey runs his other hand down his chest. He slides it back up and pushes two fingers into Kyle's mouth. Kyle groans again, wraps his tongue around them, licks between them.

"Get them good and wet," Harvey murmurs and Kyle opens his eyes, stares as Harvey as he sucks on his fingers. Harvey pulls his fingers out, lifts one of Kyle's thighs and presses one of the wet digits to Kyle's hole, Kyle pushes his hips down and Harvey's finger sinks in to the knuckle.

"More," Kyle breathes out and Harvey presses another finger in, spreads them gently. Kyle moans, plants his feet against the mattress and starts fucking himself on Harvey's fingers and its one of the hottest things Harvey's seen in a long time. He adds a third finger and Kyle lets out a noise like he's dying, arches his back and lifts his hand to his dick. Harvey swats it away.

"No," he mutters and pulls his fingers out, rips open the condom wrapper, slides it over his dick. Kyle's shuddering, looking at Harvey with pleading eyes, as Harvey pours lube onto his hand, slicks his dick up and spreads the rest over Kyle's ass. Then he's lifting Kyle's legs and pushing inside, all the way in, in one smooth movement.

They both groan, Kyle's fingers digging into Harvey's biceps and Harvey wondering why he hadn't had sex with a man for so long. Its different, its easier to let go and fuck a man into the mattress, to be as rough as he wanted without risking hurting the other person. But then Mike's blue eyes come back into his head, and Mike's the reason Harvey hasn't done this for a while, because it's always Mike he's fucking into the mattress. Kyle urges him on with groans, whines, a hand pressed to Harvey's lower back pulling him in closer until Harvey feels his orgasm coil in his stomach and he slows, wraps his hand around Kyle's dick against and twists, runs a thumb nail over the tip and slides his hand back down and Kyle comes, with a shout, nails scratching down Harvey's back as hot come spills over Harvey's hand and onto Kyle's stomach. Harvey doesn't give him a chance to catch his breath, fucks him hard until Kyle clenches around him and Harvey comes hard, the alcohol in his system making his blood pound and his vision swim again.

"Ok," Kyle says when Harvey collapses onto him, head pressed to Kyle's shoulder, "I'll give you that. You are better than you look, and you look igood/i," Harvey huffs out a laugh as Kyle trails a hand down his spine. Harvey moves off him, pulls out of Kyle's body with a small wince from Kyle and dumps the condom into the trash, makes a mental note to clear it before Mike gets back.

"I look great," Harvey says pulling his jeans on and Kyle raises an eyebrow as he stretches on the bed.

"Hmm," he hums, eyes raking up and down Harvey's body and then he moves, sits and Harvey throws his jeans in his direction. Kyle grins and pulls them on without standing, shimmies into them without taking his eyes off Harvey. Harvey hauls him to his feet and kisses him hard, his hand sliding back along Kyle's jaw, digging into his hair. Kyle pulls away and grabs his t-shirt. He's got his head halfway into it and Harvey's hands around his hips when the door flings open.

"Harvey I found…" Mike's voice trails off and he stares at them both. Kyle pulls his head through, a little flustered looking and has the gall to grin at Mike.

"Shit," Harvey murmurs to himself and Mike's face is doing that irritatingly blank thing again.

"Awkward," Kyle singsongs and Harvey snorts. Mike just narrows his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest. "Right…that's my cue," Kyle trails a hand over Harvey's bare chest, doesn't offer his number, doesn't ask for Harvey's, grins once more and is out of the door before Harvey can think.

"Get drunk, huh?" Mike snaps as he slams the door shut.

"What?" Harvey thinks about putting a shirt on, decides against his when Mike's gaze flicks down to the bite mark on his chest.

"You…"

"Go on Mike, insult me. It will make it that much easier for me to be pissed at you right now," Harvey snaps and Mike takes a step back.

"Why the hell are you pissed at me?" Mike demands, his eyes keep flicking down to Harvey's chest and Harvey takes a step forward, lowers his voice slightly and pulls Mike close, slides his fingers down Mike's jaw.

"You have no idea what it's like to see you with someone else," he says and Mike flinches, pushes Harvey away with a hard shove against his chest.

"I think I do right now," he scoffs and Harvey lets out a cruel laugh.

"Kyle? That was a meaningless fuck because I am so tired of trying to keep my hands off you. You were in _love_ with Jen, Mike. You made a life with her. And you fucked Trevor, probably more than once and here we are, helping him, because you cant let go," he shouts and Mike glares.

"You have no idea what you're talking about," Mike shouts back.

"Yes I do, I know you, remember? You don't let go easily," Harvey says, managing to control his volume, "Apart from me, apparently you can let go of me just fine," Mike sighs, runs a hand through his hair. It shakes slightly.

"God," he sounds exasperated, "when did you become so…" he trails off, heading towards the door, "I can't talk to you like this…" he pulls the door open and throws one last hateful look at Harvey, "sober up," he snaps and slams the door so hard behind him that the occupants from the next door room bang on the wall. Harvey drives his fist into once in retaliation.

"Fuck."


	4. Chapter 4

"I guess I didn't realise how much it would hurt you," Mike's voice reaches Harvey and he shifts into wakefulness. Mike's sitting at the end of his bed, shoulders hunched and Harvey swallows around his dry mouth. There's a dull throb in his head from too much whiskey and shouting at Mike and he doesn't really remember falling asleep after Mike stormed out. "I guess I should have, because if you had done the same…" Mike shrugs and turns to look at him, "I'm so sorry."

"What time is it?" Harvey asks because he doesn't really trust himself to say anything else.

"About 3 am," Mike replies, he shifts, his blue eyes looking big and watery at Harvey and Harvey cant help but reach out and brush his fingers against Mike's hand where it's pressed to the mattress.

"It's ok," he says and Mike shakes his head.

"It's not, though is it?"

Harvey sighs, he wants a piss, some Tylenol and some mouthwash, wants to go back and start this all over again.

"Come here," he jerks his head to the side and Mike looks like he's about to cry, but crawls upwards and Harvey lies down, pulling Mike with him. Mike's fingers play against his bare chest, his head heavy on his shoulder.

"Remember that time we stopped for gas and dad took ages paying?" Harvey asks and Mike lets out a small laugh into his skin.

"And I blew you in the back of the car before he came back? Yeah, I remember. How could I forget the time I made my big brother come in three minutes," Mike drags his nails over Harvey's skin.

"It was four," he counters and Mike laughs again.

"Three," Mike says and lets out a noise that he will be embarrassed by when Harvey moves suddenly, grabs the nearest pillow and smothers his face with it.

"Four," he says and Mike pokes a finger into his ribs and Harvey twists away. Mike's face is red and grinning when he emerges from under the pillow, hair messy and Harvey wants to run his fingers through it.

"Three and a half," he says and then dodges the pillow Harvey throws at him.

"Fine," Harvey says and Mike grins, "but I've made you come in less time," Mike launches himself at him, pins Harvey to the mattress and they both still as their dicks brush over each others. "Mike," Harvey says warningly and Mike shakes his head slightly. He moves slowly, like he's giving Harvey a chance to get away but Harvey couldn't move now even if he wanted to.

The brush of lips is gentle, almost tentative, like they never are with each other and Harvey tenses slightly and Mike runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

"Mike," he says again and Mike hushes him, presses his hips down against Harvey's.

"Just…" he mutters, letting go of one of Harvey's wrists and running his fingers through his hair, "let me."

He kisses him for real then, pushes his tongue into Harvey's mouth, whines low in the back of his throat and Harvey groans, arches up like he wants more, _needs_ more. Harvey wants to roll them, wants to press Mike into the mattress, explore Mike's changed body with his hands, his tongue, draw the noises from Mike he only hears in his dreams now, but Mike pulls away all to soon, nips at his bottom lip gently.

"You need to brush your teeth," Mike says, pulling away and nudging his nose against Harvey's.

"Fuck you," Harvey says with no hint of malice, pushing Mike off him. Mike's laugh is light and easy as Harvey shuts the bathroom door with slightly shaking hands.

He cups a handful of cool water from the faucet and rubs it over his face, back through his hair and stares at himself in the cracked mirror.

He can do this, he can stop himself from touching Mike, as long as Mike stops touching him. He sighs and swills a mouthful of mouthwash around his mouth.

Mike's got the laptop open across his knees when Harvey manages to talk himself into going back into the room and he flashes a small smile at Harvey, his eyes flicking down to the bite mark on his chest.

"Put a shirt on would you?" he says, throwing Harvey's t-shirt at him.

"Too distracting?" he snarks back and Mike huffs out a laugh without taking his eyes off the laptop. "What did you find?"

* * *

><p>"Where did you get this?" Harvey asks, through a mouthful of pizza and Mike rolls his eyes at him, and shushes him as the screen on the laptop flashes up with an obvious CCTV video.<p>

"I have my ways," Mike says, then swipes his thumb across the corner of his mouth and pulls it between his lips. Harvey does _not_ think about Mike getting down on his knees for a grainy copy of some CCTV footage. Mike raises his eyebrow like he knows what Harvey's thinking and rolls his eyes again, "not that you pervert," he elbows Harvey in the ribs gently, "now look," he points at the screen and Harvey watches as Trevor walks across it. He glances up at the camera and his eyes reflect some light, like a cats, and Mike pauses it.

"See?" he says, turning to Harvey, there's still a bit of pizza sauce at the corner of his mouth and Harvey reaches out, thumbs it away and Mike shivers at the contact but clears his throat and Harvey feels a flush of lust run though him.

"Camera flare," he says, turning back to the screen and ignoring the solid presence of arousal in his stomach. Mike absently pulls the side of his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head.

"That's what I thought," he says and presses play again. He fast forwards to another angle, a different camera, Trevor walking towards the victims house and he glances at the camera again, like he knows where they are and doesn't care, and his eyes flash again. "But twice?"

"Shit," Harvey mutters, "what _is_ that?"

"I don't know," Mike replies, looking thoughtful if a little worried, "but I'm thinking some kind of…shapeshifter?" He poses the last word as a question and Harvey looks sharply at him.

"Dad never proved they existed," he says, like that's the end of it, and Mike sighs heavily enough that Harvey feels the age old argument rearing its head again.

"Just because dad _couldn't _prove they existed, doesn't mean they don't," he says, and Harvey sighs too. John and Mike always butted heads, whether it was because Mike wasn't biologically John's, or because Mike's brain made him more difficult to control as a kid, or because John knew what Mike could become so was harder on him because of that, Harvey's not sure. But Mike's always known it, and now he's seeing that anger in Mike about it again, Harvey's pretty sure its part of the reason Mike left.

"You know what?" Harvey says, "let's not do this right now ok? Let's just," he nods back at the laptop and Mike just stares at him for a few seconds.

"Ok," he says, and there's a softer look in his eyes and his lips twitch at the corner slightly. There's a moment when Harvey feels the almost overwhelming urge to pull him close like they used to, work through case like this tangled around each other naked, Mike's toes pushed into Harvey's socks. Mike swallows like he knows what Harvey's thinking, again, and it takes Harvey's breath away when he does that.

"So," Harvey clears his throat, "what are we thinking?" Mike grins, a shark like grin that wouldn't look out of place on Harvey's face and Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"We're going to find him," then his face clouds with confusion and Harvey tries not to kiss the adorable expression off Mike's face, "it…it?"

The noise Mike makes when Harvey smacks him round the back of the head with a pillow is almost as adorable.

* * *

><p>"Remind me again why we're doing this?" Mike asks as he shivers and shoves his hands into his pockets. Harvey lets out a small laugh and shines the flashlight in Mike's face. Mike squints but sticks his tongue out.<p>

"Your idea, hot shot," he says and Mike sighs.

"Since when did you start listening to me anyway," he grumbles and turns his collar up against the biting wind.

"God knows, but remind me never to again ok?" Harvey replies, with a half smile as he shoves his hands into his pockets.

It was Mike's idea to stand out in the cold, outside Trevor's apartment, Harvey had protested, saying that it was highly unlikely that whatever it was, was still in Trevor's form, even if they were looking for a shapeshifter. But Mike had insisted, said that he would know it when he saw it, no matter what form it was in and Harvey had only had to take one look in Mike's eyes to nod and agree.

The wind whips around him, lifts his hair from his head for a second and Mike shivers in the cold and Harvey resists the urge to pull him close. He needs to stay sharp, not fuddle his senses with Mike.

They spent most of the day reading up on shapeshifter lore, there was surprisingly little about them, no one really knew where they came from but the general consensus seemed to be that essentially they were human, so mutated form of human, but human nevertheless. And human things could die easily. Harvey had loaded his gun with silver bullets just in case and dipped his knife in holy water before he shoved it into his belt and Mike had raised an eyebrow but done the same.

Mike sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

"I'm bored," he announces and Harvey raises an eyebrow at him.

"Wonder when the last time you were bored on hunt was," Harvey says absently and Mike nudges his elbow into Harvey's ribs.

"Never, because when we got bored we used to entertain each other," he says and Harvey doesn't make eye contact and ducks his head.

"Mike…"

"I'm going to take a look around," Mike says, standing from his crouched position and stretching his back out. Its pops in the quiet of the night and he winches.

"Stay low," Harvey says, pointedly ignoring the strip of skin between Mike's jeans and his t-shirt.

"I'll be five," he says and is off, moving on sure and quiet feet, around the side of Trevor's building.

Harvey watches him go with an appraising eye. The kid's always been skinny, but he's lean and whipcord now, not just gangly. There are muscles under his thin skin, defined and strong. When they were kids, Mike went through a growth spurt, got to Harvey's height without putting on any extra weight and he was unused to the height, the long legs, would curl in on himself and be awkward, until Harvey taught him how to fight and he straightened out and fought back. Stanford has added a few pounds, not in a bad way, but Harvey's pretty sure he's not up to fighting strength yet, but there is still the definition in his arms, in his thighs, the secret power under the unassuming façade.

By the time four minutes is up Harvey begins to get twitchy, slightly nervous, a prickling at the back of his neck as he stands and rubs at the skin there. There is no sign of Mike loping around the corner, and Harvey strains his ears to hear any noise above the wind. There is none and Harvey frowns, curls his fingers around the butt of his gun and takes a step out of their hiding place and walks around the side of Trevor's building, tracing Mike's footsteps.

It's not hard to miss it, Mike's gun, the one Harvey gave him when he turned 16 that has been in the glove box in the car since Mike left, waiting for him to come back. Harvey had engraved Mike's initials on the butt and he remembers how Mike had run his fingers over the scratches and smiled at Harvey. Harvey picks it up, curls his fingers around it.

"Mike?" he raises his voice slightly, panic kicking up a notch as no answer but the wind comes. "Mike."

He allows himself a few seconds of blind panic before he runs his hands through his hair and just thinks.

"Fuck, Mike," he mutters, shoving Mike's gun into the waistband of his jeans. "Where the hell are you?"

* * *

><p>Harvey's half under a dumpster looking for anything that might tell him where Mike is when his phone rings, it vibrates against his thigh and rings shrilly in the quiet night and Harvey jumps, hits his head on the underside of the dumpster and curses as he pulls it out of his pocket and sees Mike's name flashing on the screen.<p>

"Mike?"

_"If I didn't know any better I would say you were waiting for him to come save you?" _There's a voice on the end of the line that sounds suspiciously like Harvey's own and Harvey grips the phone tighter.

"_That's because I know him," _Mike answers and Harvey can hear the barely contained pain in his voice and has to breathe through the surge of anger.

_"He has no idea where you are Mike. He's not coming for you…he didn't come for you the four years you were away, what makes you think he will now?"_

There's background noise that Harvey makes himself listen to instead of the hitch in Mike's breathing, the little whine he lets out and Harvey doesn't even want to know what the shifter is doing to him. Not yet, not when he can't get his hands around the thing's throat and watch the life drain out of him.

There's dripping, their voices echo, and a rumble of something that sounds like a subway train and Harvey frowns, presses his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

"I'm coming for you Mike, hang on kiddo."

* * *

><p>The tunnels under cities are always bad, not matter what city, they're the same trash and slime infested stinking crap holes and Harvey sighs as he drops down into ankle deep water, or what he hopes to god is water. Noise sounds different underground. It bounces off different objects and makes it hard to figure out what direction its coming from. Harvey started from the nearest manhole cover to where he found Mike's gun, and stands still for a few seconds, drawing in a deep breath as he listens and turns in the direction of a noise, a distant scrape of metal against concrete and then a thud of something heavy hitting something else heavy and he's off, moving as silently as he can through the foul smelling water, ignoring the beady eyes of rats.<p>

There's a distant yet distinct cry of pain and Harvey presses one hand to the slightly damp wall and curls his fingers of the other in to his palm, nails biting into his skin. Harvey's never been able to concentrate when he knows that Mike is in trouble or danger and there was once that John used Mike as bait for a ghoul without telling Harvey and Harvey had been half crazy with anger and worry, had bundled Mike into the Impala and driven off, leaving John to make his own way back to the motel. Mike had been asleep by the time John had got back and hadn't said anything to Harvey about it, just nodded once in a way that Harvey knew meant he would never do it again.

Another cry has Harvey moving again, twisting through the tunnels, pausing every now and then to listen until he rounds a corner and finds a heavy metal door infront of him and Mike's voice makes its way through it.

"You fucking piece of shit, come on," Mike sounds angry, in pain, and he's taunting the shifter and Harvey feels a swell of pride before there's there distinct sound of a punch being thrown and a muffled groan.

"Tell me he's not coming," the shifter, still sounding like Harvey, says and he hears Mike laugh.

"He's coming," Mike says and Harvey runs his hands around the seams of the door. It's heavy, metal, but Harvey's seen them before and knows the hinges are weak enough at the joining point to be broken with a sharp kick to the edge of the door. It crashes to the floor and both Mike and the shifter jump.

"My god, I'm attractive," Harvey says and Mike rolls his eye, only one because the other's swollen closed. The shifter raises an eyebrow. "I mean, I knew I was but my god, I had no idea how attractive. Would you look at me Mike?" The shifter bares it teeth and launches itself at Harvey. Harvey dodges, grabs an arm as it flies past and twists, slams it into the wall face first and it grunts, pushes back against Harvey and Harvey stumbles.

It's strong, uses Harvey's moves against him and its weird watching himself in front of him, the way Harvey moves himself. Harvey draws a fist back and drives it into the shifters face. It grunts again but stays on its feet and punches Harvey back, gets a right hook to the jaw and Harvey falls.

"Harvey," Mike's voice is worried but Harvey's diving for the things feet in a second, tackling it to the ground. They roll, fists flying, knees tangling and Harvey manages to get the knife out from his waist band and drive it between the things ribs.

The howl it lets out is inhuman, a piercing noise that makes Harvey clap his hands over his ears and Mike grimace, twist against his bindings. And it looks down at Harvey with Harvey's eyes and they close heavily, the pupils expanding as the life bleeds from it.

Harvey pushes the dead weight off himself, takes a deep breath and pushes himself to his feet.

"Harvey," Mike lets out a strangled sob as Harvey gets his hands around Mike's face, runs his thumbs across Mike's cheek bones.

"You ok?" he asks and Mike nods, his uninjured blue eye wide, staring up at Harvey. He winches slightly as Harvey presses a little too hard against his cheekbone. "We should get you to a hospital," they both hate hospitals, a hatred born of questions and John being injured and worrying about Social Services and more than once Harvey has had to take Mike and run from them, wait for John to discharge himself and then they would be in the car and away before anyone could find them. Mike flinches and shakes his head.

"No, I'm fine. Nothing broken just…" he trails off as Harvey runs his hands down Mike's arm and presses the flat of his blade against Mike's skin, cuts the ties holding his arms behind him. Mike grimaces again, rolls his shoulders and Harvey frees his ankles. "Lets get out of here."

Harvey pulls Mike to his feet and wraps an arm around his waist, pulls Mike's arm over his shoulder.

"I can walk Harvey," he says and Harvey just mutters "shut up" as leads Mike out of the tunnels.

* * *

><p>Harvey's does his usual injury check when they get back to the motel, hands running over Mike's skin to check for cuts and bruises, pressing a little harder here and there to check for broken bones and Mike just stares at him the whole time.<p>

"I thought he was you," Mike says as Harvey checks the small bones of Mike's hands. Harvey stills, and Mike curls his fingers around Harvey's.

"Mike…"

"No," he shakes his head and presses his free hand to it, "That's a lie, I knew it wasn't you, but for a second I thought it was. It had your eyes Harvey, and…" he trails off as Harvey pulls his hand out of Mike's grasp and presses his thumbs to Mike's forearm, Mike winches and Harvey makes a mental note to keep an eye on that. It could be a small fracture, "it smiled at me like you used to."

"Mike," Harvey clears his throat and Mike curls his fingers around Harvey's arm, "what did it want?"

"To feel more human, to feel alive," Mike shrugs slightly, winces and Harvey presses his thumb into Mike's shoulder, feels the knot of muscles under his touch. Mike grimaces as Harvey presses harder, rubs at the knot gently.

"By killing people?" he asks and Mike nods absently, watching Harvey's fingers against his skin.

"It said it never felt more alive than when it had someone dying in its arms," Mike sounds almost bored but the he gasps and pulls at Harvey's arm, "oh god Harvey," Mike clutches at him, fingers curling into Harvey's shirt, pressing into his skin, "it said it wanted me," Mike looks almost terrified, and Harvey hasn't seen that amount of fear in him since before, when Mike was 15 and John got ripped nearly clean apart by a Wendigo. "It said it wanted to know what all the fuss was about, why he'd heard my name being whispered around," Mike's fingers press in harder, his eyes going wider, the injured one still slightly swollen.

"Mike…"

"Why?" There's desperation in his tone, desperation to find out why this is happening, iwhat/i is happening and Harvey wants to tell him it will all be ok, they'll find John and everything will be fine. Except he knows that's a lie.

"I don't know, but we're going to find out and sort this, ok? You hear me?" he says and Mike looks at him like he can see the lie but he nods anyway, his grip relaxing on Harvey's shirt and arm.

"I hear you…" he says, his finger uncurling from Harvey's shirt, but the other hand stays on his arm, fingers stroking against the skin. "It had your memories…it knew things about…us," he continues, then swallows audibly.

"Mike," Harvey pulls out of his grasp but he's forgotten how fast Mike can be. Mike's fingers clutch at his shirt again, tugging Harvey closer.

"It said," he pauses and looks down and Harvey can't help but lift Mike's chin with his finger, "you still…love…me," he stumbles over the word and Harvey feels something akin to fear coil in his stomach. He avoids Mike's eyes, because Mike could always see the truth when he looked at Harvey, and drops his chin from his hand.

"I…"

"Harvey iplease/i, I can't…" Mike tugs Harvey down, next to him, and throws a leg over Harvey's, cups his hands around Harvey's face, his eyes are serious, searching Harvey's face and Harvey rests his hands on Mike's hips, "I can't be with you without being _with_ you," he shakes Harvey's face slightly on the word, "how can you? How can you bare it?"

"I can't," Harvey shifts, turns his head away but he catches Mike's fallen expression and grabs at Mike's hips to stop him from moving away. He might be messed up about this whole thing, they both might be, but one thing he does know is that he needs Mike, he always has. And if anything was proven today it was that there are still feelings for both of them. "I can't bare it."

"Stop trying to be strong Harvey," Mike presses their foreheads together, his breath plays against Harvey's lips and Harvey runs his tongue over them, "I don't want you to be strong any…" Mike's words are lost in a gasp as Harvey moves suddenly, spins them and presses Mike into the mattress and covers his mouth with his own. Mike groans, hands clutching at the back of Harvey's neck, as Harvey pushes his tongue into Mike's mouth. Their legs are tangled, but Harvey can still feel the way Mike's dick hardens, presses against Harvey's thigh and Mike whines into Harvey's mouth, tries to get some leverage, to move, to arch up into Harvey. Harvey holds him down with a hand flat against his skinny hip, thumb rubbing gently over the skin as he pulls away and mouths down Mike's jawline.

Harvey's name becomes a mantra in his own ears, spilling from Mike's lips like Mike's just getting used to the feel of it in his mouth again, Mike's hands roam down Harvey's back, push up under his t-shirt, pressing into the scars there, the familiar ones, the ones Mike wasn't there for, the long gash across his right shoulder that had made Mike go white with shock when it happened. Harvey mouths at the sensitive spot under Mike's ear, sucks on the skin then soothes with his tongue and Mike lets out a string of curses, mixed with Harvey's name and Harvey feels his dick even harder against his thigh.

Harvey rocks down against Mike, has the leverage he needs, even though Mike doesn't, groans as Mike urges him on with a hand flat against his backside, pushes into his jeans, fingers curling into the skin.

"Come on Harvey," he mutters, breath hot against Harvey's ear and Harvey stills, pulls his head from Mike's neck and Mike frowns, "what?"

"I think we should be naked," Harvey says and is rewarded with a grin that he hasn't seen for a long time, easy and genuine with a lot of arousal mixed in.

"I think that's a good idea," Mike replies and manages to pull his t-shirt over his head without moving out from under Harvey. Harvey raises an eyebrow as Mike reaches between them and pops his jeans, then Harvey's and Harvey pulls away to drag Mike's jeans down his thighs. He pauses halfway down, blows a stream of cool air across Mike's hard dick and Mike whines again, bucks upwards and curses. He grins up at Mike and pulls his jeans all the way off, throws them over his shoulder and groans when Mike reaches forward and pushes his hand into his pants. "Come _on."_

"God, I forgot how pushy you were," Harvey says, pulls his own jeans off and climbing back over Mike.

"You love it when I top from the bot…unf," Mike's word trail off as Harvey lowers his hips to Mike's, their dicks sliding together as he does it. Harvey reaches between them and runs his thumb over the tip in Mike's dick before curling his hand around both of them.

"You were saying, kiddo?" Mike pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes clamped shut as Harvey twists his hand and pushes his hips forward, his dick sliding over Mike's again. Harvey catches a drop of precome with his thumb, slides it down Mike's dick and Mike whines again, fingers digging into Harvey's shoulders, pressing into the large scar there.

It doesn't take long for Mike to come, Harvey's teeth pressed into the soft skin under his chin, his hand curled around Mike's cock. Mike shudders, cries out Harvey's name and spills over Harvey's hand, hot and wet and that's pretty much all it takes for Harvey to come as well, his mouth over Mike's and Mike's hands in his hair.

"For the record," Mike mutters and Harvey's arms give out. Mike turns them, cuddles into Harvey's chest like he's got no intention of getting up and cleaning himself off. Harvey's sated, for now, comfortable and warm and he's got Mike where he wants him now, he's not about to care about some drying come on his stomach, "I still love you too," Mike says against his chest and traces over the possession prevention tattoo on Harvey's chest. Harvey makes a mental note to haul Mike to the nearest tattoo parlour to get his own tomorrow.

Harvey tightens his grip, drops a kiss to Mike's sweaty hair but doesn't say anything. Mike shifts, cuddles in closer and Harvey thinks about saying something, thinks about pushing Mike away for the sake of it but he just holds on, tangles his legs with Mike's and falls asleep with Mike's fingers against his chest.


	5. Chapter 5

Harvey wakes to Mike biting gently at his nipple, his hands pressing into Harvey's hips.

"Cannibal," Harvey rumbles, his voice thick with sleep, he brings his hands up to tangle into Mike's hair and arches up into his mouth. Mike chuckles against his skin, the vibrations mixing with Harvey's as he groans, Mike's tongue working its magic.

"Morning," Mike lifts his head and rests his chin on Harvey's stomach, staring up at Harvey with big blue eyes. The injured one is still slightly swollen, less than yesterday though which makes something lift in Harvey's chest. There's a vivid bruise on his cheek, red and purple and Harvey runs the pads of his fingers over it gently. Mike sighs, closes his eyes and leans into the touch.

"Did you sleep?" Harvey asks and Mike nods, eyes still closed but Harvey can see the dark circles under them and he stops touching Mike. Mike opens his eyes and Harvey raises an eyebrow.

"Mostly," he says, and Harvey believes him for the most part, because he knows, being wrapped around Mike all night, if Mike had nightmares Harvey would have woken. "And now I'm thinking…"

"Uh-oh."

"Breakfast," Mike grins, digs his fingers into Harvey's ribs and Harvey jerks, hauls Mike upwards and down, presses their mouths together and runs his hand down Mike's spine. "Apparently you're thinking something else though," he says, voice full of smirk and Harvey rolls them, presses Mike into the creaking mattress and grins shark like down at him.

"Four years, Mike," Harvey says, "I think breakfast can wait a little longer," Mike's eyes flutter closed as Harvey slides a thumb across the bruise on his cheek.

"Harvey?" Mike opens his eyes and there's a hint of worry in them. Harvey frowns.

"You ok?"

"I haven't..." he sighs, "not since…" and then Harvey gets it and feels arousal and lust swell in his stomach. Mike hasn't been fucked since Harvey, since the last time they did it, slow and steady, drunk with wandering hands, not since then and Harvey leans down, kisses Mike hard, and slow. Exploratory like he hasn't done since Mike got back into his life. Harvey's hands are in Mike's hair and Mike's are shaking slightly against the back of Harvey's neck, but he relaxes when Harvey presses his hips down, slides his dick over Mike's and Mike whines into Harvey's mouth. There's a certain cadence to Mike's whines when he's turned on, one that Harvey used to bring to the front of his mind whenever he allowed himself to, rushed in the shower with the ghost of Mike's touches running down his back, and the memory of the noises he made in his mind. He wants to hear them for real now, loud and uninhibited, because it's just them now. There's no John's possibly barging in, no job, no hunt, just Harvey and Mike and the rest of the day to get Mike's strength back.

"Remember how I used to tell you to be quiet?" Harvey says against Mike's ear and Mike nods, arching his body into Harvey's. "Well don't, not now," Mike lets out a small whine as Harvey pulls his ear lobe between his teeth. "I want to hear you Mike," he says, pulling back and pressing the tips of his fingers into Mike's scalp, "you can beg too if you want," Harvey continues, pulling away completely and reaching down to where he threw his jeans the night before. He pulls out a condom and a sachet of lube and throws them on the bed next to Mike's head, and tugs Mike downwards a little. Mike's stretches, skin laid out for Harvey, chest defined yet skinny, and Harvey traces the bumps and dips of Mike's muscles with his finger, "but you still don't get to touch unless I tell you to, got it?" Mike nods and lifts his hands above his head, crossing his wrists and curling his fingers around his forearms. Harvey swallows, hard. Mike's always been easy to manipulate, even when he was a kid, just a few words would have Mike doing whatever Harvey wanted, it wasn't until they started this that Harvey knew what that meant for them, just how deep that need to please Harvey ran in Mike. Mike shifts, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth and just waits. Harvey leans down, swirls his tongue around Mike's navel and glances up in time to see Mike's fingers twitch. He smirks to himself, sliding his mouth down the trail of hair on Mike's stomach, presses his nose to the skin there and breathes in the scent of both of them. Mike lets out a small whine, twitches his hips slightly and Harvey curls his fingers around them, presses them flat to the mattress and licks a long stripe up the underside of Mike's dick. Mike practically bites through his bottom lip, groaning low and his hips strain against Harvey's hold. The taste of precome is almost bitter on Harvey's tongue, but it's familiar and welcome and he sucks hard on the head and Mike groans again, lets out a noise that sounds like a strangled "please".

He loves hearing Mike beg, the way he tries to stop himself, the way he says Harvey but it also kicks something inside of Harvey hard enough that he can't help himself from giving Mike exactly what he wants. Harvey takes all of Mike in at once, swallows him down whole until Mike's dick hits the back of his throat and his nose is pressed up to Mike's stomach. Mike makes that noise that sounds like he's dying and Harvey sees the way his arms twitch with the effort of staying still, keeping them where Harvey wanted them because that's how this works.

Harvey works Mike, sucking hard, tongue curling around him, pulling off with slick pops, until Mike is shivering with the effort of staying still, not coming, curses spilling from his lips and Harvey crawls upwards, nudges Mike's nose with his own.

"Eyes open, Mike," Mike's eyes fly open, mostly black and he breathes heavily, "tell me what you want kid."

"Fuck me Harvey, please, just…" Mike trails off, makes an abortive effort to lift his hands like he wants to touch Harvey but stops and Harvey lifts his own hand, wraps his fingers around Mike's wrists and kiss him, presses his hips down to Mike's. Harvey squeezes his fingers once around Mike's wrists and then lets them go, reaches out to the sachet of lube next to Mike's head.

"How?" he asks and sits back against Mike's thighs, pours lube across his fingers and strokes once up Mike's dick.

"Slow…at first," Mike tries to lift his hips and Harvey shifts downwards, across, leaving one of Mike's legs free. He lifts it, slides his fingers around and circles Mike's hole, "then harder, till I…" Harvey pushes a finger in and Mike's eyes slip shut again.

"Eyes, Mike," Mike battles them open and Harvey curls his finger slightly, pulling back enough to add another one and push in again. "Till you what?"

"Till I can't remember my own…name, fuck, do that again..." Harvey grins and spreads his fingers again and Mike whines, baring his throat.

"'Vey…"

"What kid?" Harvey asks, pushing another finger in. Mike's tight, he always was, but this is different, the almost searing heat makes Harvey light-headed and it's only around his fingers.

"Please…I…let me touch you, please," Mike's got a sheen of sweat across his chest and it nearly shimmers under the crappy strip lighting and Harvey marvels at the fact that anyone can look this gorgeous under lights like this. He leans forward, kisses Mike and swallows his groan.

"Not yet," Harvey pulls his fingers out and reaches for the condom, ripping it open with his teeth and spitting the sliver of foil across the room. He can't help the way his hips jerk into his own fist as he rolls the condom down his dick and Mike licks his lips, his eyes fixed on the way Harvey twists his hand around himself.

"Ple…"

"No," Harvey bites out, shifting back enough to push the head of his dick between Mike's thighs. Mike nods, his fingers digging into his own skin as he holds onto his wrists, and Harvey pushes all the way inside his body. Mike's so sensitive, reactive to Harvey's every touch, let alone the way he seems to fit perfectly into Mike's body, and Mike arches like a bow, spine curved upwards, hands pressed into the chipped headboard. "Now, Mike," Harvey orders, pulling out enough to slam back in, "touch me now."

Mike moves, slides his hands across Harvey's shoulders, fingers pressing into the muscles, scars, down his chest and curls around a nipple. Harvey grunts when Mike pinches it between his thumb and forefinger but pushes in deep enough that Mike's eyes roll back into his head. Mike splays his fingers out across Harvey's ribs, slides his hands back and down, a hot press of palms against Harvey's skin as Mike pulls him closer, deeper and wraps his legs around Harvey's waist. It's like he's learning Harvey's body again, slowly remembering the way his hands fit into places on Harvey's chest, on his lower back, as if Mike would need to remind himself, Mike's always known exactly where his hands fit. Harvey fucks him slow and deep, leans down over Mike and presses their foreheads together as Mike slides his legs around Harvey's waist.

"Enough slow," Mike murmurs and Harvey leans down to lick a line up Mike's throat. Mike slides one hand up Harvey's spine, and buries it into his hair. "Fast, 'Vey, fuck me, please."

And that's all Harvey's ever needed. Mike begging for it.

He leans back, tugs Mike closer and fucks him hard, till Mike's babbling, fingers scrabbling over any skin he can find as Harvey pushes all the way in and pulls out, hands clamped around his hips.

"You going to come Mike? Without me touching you? Remember how you used to do that?" Harvey shifts his angle and Mike arches again, fingers digging into Harvey's forearms so hard that Harvey feels the bones move under his skin.

"Fuck, right there," Mike groans as Harvey pushes in again, "yes...I"

"Come Mike, come on," Harvey groans himself, pushes in hard once and Mike's entire body goes taught and he feels Mike come hot between them. "Good boy," he says low and Mike shudders, keeps his eyes on Harvey as Harvey pushes in once, twice, Mike clenches around him and trails his fingers down Harvey's ass and Harvey comes, hard enough to see stars.

When he comes back to himself, he's got his head pressed to the pillow and his mouth on Mike's neck and Mike's tracing patterns, what feels like sigils of protection they learnt years ago, across the skin of his back.

"So," Mike says, his voice more than a little wrecked, "breakfast now?" To make his point more, Mike's stomach rumbles and Harvey huffs out a laugh as he moves off him, and pulls out of Mike's body, soothes the grimaces from Mike with a hand pressed to his chest.

"Can I shower first?" Harvey asks with a smirk and Mike lifts himself up onto his elbows, cranes his neck forward and sniffs, then makes a face.

"I think you should, for the good of mankind," he says and yelps when Harvey smacks his thigh. But his smile is easy and almost indulgent and Harvey feels himself smile back as he makes his way on slightly shaky legs to the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Harvey's got shampoo in his eyes when Mike slips in behind him and goes to his knees.<p>

It's quick and messy and Harvey tangles his fingers into Mike's hair as Mike attempts to suck Harvey's brain out through his dick.

* * *

><p>They manage to make it to the diner across the street without getting naked again, although it's a close call when Mike's got his jeans slung low and no shirt on and he grins at Harvey across their motel room. Harvey traps himself against the wall and has Mike shaking in his arms within 5 minutes.<p>

He's sitting opposite Harvey now, slumped low and he keeps shifting like it's hard to sit and Harvey smirks to himself and scowls as Mike kicks him gently under the table.

"Stop smirking," he mutters darkly, sipping at his coffee and Harvey just smirks again. Mike licks a drop of syrup from his pancakes off his thumb and Harvey nearly chokes. "See Harvey?" Mike grins, "two can play at your game."

Harvey glares, half-heartedly, because Mike's smiling too, and there's still a bruise across his eye, but he looks lighter than he has since he first slipped into the Impala, next to Harvey, and Harvey's still got the taste of Mike on his tongue and right now, Harvey's almost perfectly happy.

"Shit."

"What?" Harvey asks around a mouthful of bacon. Mike's face is white as he looks over at the rack of newspapers and Harvey follows his gaze. "Well fuck."

On the front of one of them is a grainy still from a CCTV video, but it's unmistakably Harvey, and the heading above it reads "Torturer Killer Strikes Again." Mike moves, pushes himself up and slides across the bench and grabs at the paper. He scans the front page and Harvey can't work up the energy to care about his face plastered on the front page, because Mike's got his hunt face on and he runs a delicate finger down the page and Harvey loves it when he's like this.

"We gotta go, Harvey," he waves at the waitress, "We gotta leave town now."

"What about your friend?" Harvey asks, then swallows the rest of his coffee leisurely.

"Fuck Trevor," Mike snaps as he throws some bills at the waitress, she huffs but a smile from Harvey is enough to placate her.

"Whoa, ok Whiplash Kid. Yesterday he was the most important thing in your life…"

"You're the most important thing in my life, Harvey," Mike snaps and shoves his hands into his pockets, a faint blush across his cheeks as Harvey raises an eyebrow at the blurted out confession. Mike clears his throat, "and now your face is plastered all over the front page as a possible psycho killer. We have to go," Mike stalks out of the diner and the bell dings as the door slams. Harvey shrugs at the waitress and follows Mike outside.

"We're in the middle of a hunt Mike," he calls and Mike whirls around.

"I don't care," he says as Harvey steps up to him, "I. Don't. Care," Mike pokes him in the chest.

"Take the drama down a notch Juliet," Harvey replies, rubbing at his chest, "I care that we're in the middle of a hunt."

"Harvey," Mike sighs, shoves his hands into his pockets.

"Mike. I don't care for your friend, but this is a job and we have to see it through. If "The Torturer Killer", terrible name by the way, has "struck again" then we, and by we I mean you, because obviously I cant walk into the police station, can go get him out, and _then_ we can get the hell out of dodge, hole up in some crappy motel and I can fuck you through the mattress…sound like a plan?" Harvey raises an eyebrow and sees anger replaced by amusement replaced by lust flicker across Mike's face.

"Harvey."

"Listen Mike, I've been in worse situations, and you know we never leave a hunt. Plus, you've always looked good in a suit," Harvey grins and Mike sighs his 'I don't like your plan' sigh and rolls his eyes.

"You're ridiculous," he says, and pulls his hand out of his pocket and pulls out the motel room keys.

"Yet you still love me," Harvey replies as Mike pushes the door open. Harvey has his hands on his hips and his mouth attached to the back of Mike's neck before they are both through the door.

"Thinking about retracting that," Mike mutters, then groans as Harvey bites down on the skin. Harvey kicks the door closed behind them and spins Mike, pushes him back against the nearest wall.

"No you aren't," he says and pushes his hands into Mike's pants. Mike's head falls back against the stained, cracked plaster as Harvey twists his hand and steps closer to Mike.

"I thought you were going to fuck me...Jesus…through a mattress once this was over?" Mike says, fingers curling around Harvey's forearm and Harvey chuckles into Mike's ear.

"I know the mattress are pretty bad here, but that's a wall you're against kiddo, I said nothing about walls…" Mike groans again and Harvey grins against the skin of his cheek.

Mike comes quickly, shuddering in Harvey's grip and his legs buckle as Harvey twists his hand around him, now slick with come. Harvey manages to keep him upright and pulls him close, slides his hand down Mike's jaw and kisses him hard, rocks his hips into Mike's.

"Now go be a good fake Lawyer," Harvey mutters, pulling back enough that he catches the look of fucked out bliss on Mike's face, and the way Mike's mouth chases Harvey's, "and get your friend out of jail, so we can get out of here and get on with the aforementioned fucking," he finished and Mike opens his eyes to glare at Harvey.

"I have to change first," he mutters darkly, pushing Harvey away and Harvey grins to himself, rearranges his hard dick in his own pants.

"You wouldn't if I ordered you not to," he says and Mike freezes halfway through pulling out a slightly wrinkled suit from his duffle.

"You ordering me to?" he asks and Harvey pretends to contemplate it for a second, head cocked to the side.

"No," he says, "not this time," and Mike pulls his t-shirt over his head and throws it in Harvey's direction.

Harvey amuses himself with watching Mike transform into a respectable suited (pretend) Lawyer and swats Mike's hands away as he pulls out a poor excuse for a tie and wraps it around his neck. Mike sighs but lets Harvey get one of his own and slides the silk, (his one extravagance) under Mike's collar. He pointedly ignores the way Mike's breathing speeds up slightly as Harvey's finger brush over his skin and ties the tie expertly, a perfect Windsor knot at the base of Mike's neck. He smoothes it down Mike's chest.

"You're good," he says and Mike clears his throat before stepping away.

"Fake ID's in the glove box?" he asks and Harvey nods, throwing himself down onto the bed and grabbing the TV remote, "Stay in here," Mike orders as he pulls the door open and Harvey scowls.

"You're not the boss of me," he says and then grins at the expected eye roll from Mike as he slams the door shut.

* * *

><p>"I failed," Mike's face is the picture of dejection as he slumps against the door jamb and stares at Harvey. Harvey mutes the TV, some crappy medical drama, and crosses his arms over his chest, "to <em>not<em> be awesome," Mike continues, his face breaking into a grin as a shadow crosses the door and a dark haired guy follows Mike into the door, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Circumstantial evidence," Mike continues as Harvey takes stock of what's obviously Trevor. The kid's good looking, chiselled almost, with a hard set to his mouth and eyes that could look cruel but look at Mike with something Harvey doesn't want to identify. "Harvey, I rocked it, you should have seen it."

"Apparently they have another suspect," Trevor says and Mike smiles easily at him and Harvey's gut twists.

"Yeah, that would be me," Harvey shrugs and flicks the TV back to loud. Mike frowns and grabs the remote.

"What's the matter with you?" he demands and Trevor shifts uncomfortably.

"Nothing, can we get the hell out of here now? I mean, I am the suspected "Torturer Killer." _God_ that name is terrible," Mike frowns again, a flicker of suspicion crosses his face and Trevor steps forward.

"I can't thank you enough for helping me," he says, sticking his hand out to Harvey. Harvey just stares at it as he gets off the bed and stretches. Mike clears his throat pointedly.

"Thank Mike. If it was up to me we wouldn't be here," Harvey says, shoving his hands into his pocket and heading for the door, "have your fond farewell kids, I'll be in the car Mike."

The sound of the door slamming is satisfying but Harvey catches Mike apologising just before it and Harvey rolls his shoulders and pulls out a cigarillo from his pocket. The smoke tightens his lungs, the old familiar tightening as he rolls the smoke around his mouth and blows a couple of smoke rings out into the still air of the motel parking lot. He really shouldn't be out in public right now but he can't stay in that room and watch the way Trevor looks at his Mike. The door opens behind him but Harvey doesn't look around.

"I know it wasn't your idea, but thank you anyway," Trevor says and Harvey shrugs as he comes to stand in front of Harvey, "Mike's a good friend."

"That all he is?" Harvey asks despite himself and Trevor just blinks.

"Why do you care? Because he's your brother? Or…" Harvey feels the urge to curl his fingers around Trevor's throat.

"You know nothing of us," he says instead, stamping on his cigarillo and Trevor blinks again.

"Think I don't see it? You think I didn't notice the look he got in his eyes whenever he talked about his big _brother_? You mean more to him than anything, than Jen ever could have. You're the reason…"

"Harvey," Mike sounds worried, a warning in his tone like he can see the way Harvey's fingers are twitching at his sides and Trevor stops talking, clamps his mouth shut and Harvey suddenly wishes Mike hadn't turned up when he did. "Let's go."

Harvey glares one last time at Trevor and stalks off towards the car. He feels slightly better as he slips into the drivers seat and curls his fingers around the wheel, his knuckles turning white as he watches the hug between Trevor and Mike. And when Mike closes his eyes and Trevor's fingers linger at the back of Mike's neck Harvey cant resist healing the horn and starling them both. Mike glares briefly and then pushes at Trevor's shoulder, they do a lame fake fight before hugging one more time and Mike shifts his duffle on his shoulder and walks across the parking lot to the car.

Trevor nods in Harvey's direction and Harvey can still see him in the rear view mirror as he pulls out of the lot.

* * *

><p>"What's wrong?" Mike asks, staring out of the window. There's a gentle patter of rain on the windshield, the quiet screech of the wipers as they slide across the glass and the hum of the Impala.<p>

"Nothing."

Mike snorts and turns to Harvey, lays his arm across the back of the seat and lets his fingers play against the back of Harvey's neck.

"I've known you my entire life, don't try to pretend there's nothing wrong, Harvey, I read people remember?"

"I taught you how," Harvey replies and Mike lets out a small laugh.

"Yeah," he says quietly, "you taught me a lot."

* * *

><p>"You really want to know what's wrong?" Harvey asks as Mike slides a beer across the table of the booth in the bar of the motel. They drove as far as they could, till Harvey's eyes were gritty and Mike was asleep against the window. Far from New York and out of state until Harvey had to stop and pulled the car into the next motel. But the need for beer had been almost overwhelming as Mike had stretched and smiles gently, gone to check them in.<p>

Mike doesn't answer, just smiles and takes a sip from his beer, the soft clink of liquid against glass as he does it. Then picks at the damp label with his thumb nail.

"I hate that there were other people," Harvey says quietly and Mike lifts his gaze from the pile of shredded paper and reaches out to Harvey's hand. Harvey sits back, lowers his own hand to his lap and Mike sighs.

"There were other people for you too Harvey," he says and Harvey nods, takes a long pull of his beer.

"You're mine," Harvey's voice is quiet, even to his own ears and Mike frowns, bites on his bottom lip.

"You don't think I feel the same way?" he asks and Harvey finishes his beer and pushes himself up from the table. Mike lifts his hand and curls it around Harvey's wrist. "Where are you going?" The 'why are you leaving just when we're getting somewhere?' is obvious in his tone and Harvey tugs his hand free and makes his way out of the bar. "Harvey?" Mike shouts after him across the bar parking lot.

"He looked at you, Mike, the way I…" Harvey starts, whirling around to Mike who looks back at him with a mixture of confusion and amusement.

"Trevor? Seriously? How many times do I have to tell you nothing happened?" Mike asks, exasperated and pushes past Harvey towards their room.

"Until I get the truth Mike."

"Fine…" Mike whirls back around, "you want the truth? He wanted to fuck me, and I didn't let him, you know why Harvey?" Harvey shoves his hands into his pocket and Mike takes a step forward, "Harvey? Because of you. Because no one will ever match up to what you mean to me, no one. You fucking get that through your thick fucking skull and maybe,_ maybe_ we can finally get past this," Harvey pinches the bridge of his nose and Mike pulls his hand away, "look at me and tell me I'm lying."

"Mike," Harvey shakes his head and steps away from Mike and turns.

"You say you want the truth yet its fucking staring you in the face right now Harvey and you're not seeing it," Mike pulls him back round to face him. "See it."

Harvey lifts his hands to Mike's face, runs his thumbs across his cheekbones, gently over the bruise still dark against Mike's pale skin. There's a lot in Mike's gaze, worry, pleading, _love_ but there is no lie and Harvey pulls him close briefly and kisses him, licks into his mouth and Mike whines, curls his fingers around Harvey's elbows.

"That thing wanted me," he says when Harvey pulls away and Mike keeps a hold on Harvey's elbows to keep him close, "because of who I am, _what_ I am, and Harvey, I need your help to figure this out," Mike brushes their noses together and Harvey sees, out of focus, the way his lips curl into a smile.

"Mike, I'm…" Mike cuts off his words by pressing his lips to Harvey's.

"It's ok," he says, like he knew Harvey was going to apologise for being a jealous idiot, for flying off the handle when he had no reason to, except that Mike knows those words don't come to Harvey easily, that he struggles with sentiment and expression, that hunting and knowing what's right, and protecting Mike are the only things that come easily.

Harvey loves him for knowing that.

"Now, you did mention something about fucking me into a mattress right?" Mike asks, pressing slightly close and grinning. Harvey laughs, pulls their hips together with a hand flat to Mike's lower back.

"I may have mentioned something about it," Harvey replies and Mike grins again, pulls away and dangles the room keys in front of Harvey's face.

"Just to let you know," he says as Harvey grabs the keys, "you're getting no sleep tonight whatsoever."

"Pushy little bastard," Harvey grumbles as Mike sways his hips slightly more than necessary. He throws a grin over his shoulder as he pushes the door open and by the time Harvey walks through it and kicks it shut, Mike's already got his shirt off and is standing with his hands clasped behind his back.

"Come on, Harvey," he whines, a small smirk twisting the corner of his lips and Harvey pulls his own shirt over his head. And for the first time in ages, as he stalks towards the willing and waiting Mike who's practically vibrating with need, Harvey feels no lingering shred of doubt in his stomach as he pulls Mike close. No worry as he throws them both down on to the bed and kisses Mike until they're both panting and hard. He feels nothing but Mike under his hands as he pushes inside Mike's body, because this is where they both belong.


End file.
